Serus Flos: The Melissa Agar Story
by arkangel221
Summary: A teenage American woman is told that she is a very special type of witch. Now 7 years late for her Hogwarts education, she has to learn who’s who in her new world, what’s wrong or right, and figure out where she belongs.
1. Chapter 1

Ok ladies and gents this is just a teaser. I just would like to know from you if this so called fic is any good. I do realize that the time table in the sorting is really off but that's the way I like it. I also realize that this is going to be a very slow story if I ever complete it cough Ron/Draco cough. So yell, scream, laugh, cry, do what ever just review. I need a good title for this! Add that too.

This has been a while in the making (sence before comme la couleur de vos lèvres) so please don't yell at me about updating that fic.

Thanks a million!

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No one had made such an entrance to the Great Hall of Hogwarts as Melissa Agar had made since Harry Potter himself. She came in a flurry of talk and whispers, for she was something that none of the students, pure-blooded or not, had ever seen. She had just sauntered in to the hall, a small kind of strut to her walk and a smirk on her face; as if she were telling you that she knew something that you didn't. She was short and squat and reminded Harry of the size of his Cousin Dudley only slimmer. On her face she wore a pair of emblazoned sunglasses, which held the Chinese and Japanese symbol for WAR in each glass. Her hair was held back with a fading blue bandana, which was odd in the first place because it was already pulled back from her portly face and into a rather long ponytail in the first place.

Her feet were clad with a pair of men's Stanly working boots that raised her about two more inches off the ground than her genes had intended. On her body there was a pair of work mard blue-jeans and a black t-shirt that hung off her large stomach like a bell. She also held a large black bag in her right hand; it was rectangular and not wide enough for clothes of any kind and a large shoulder strap scraped the ground as she walked. Hermione decided that she had not read Hogwarts: A history yet, she knew that it was a laptop case.

Melissa made her way through the crowd of little eleven year olds with much rolling of eyes and growls of anger at the ones that wouldn't stop staring at her. Yeah, ok, so she was fat! So goddamned what? Didn't mean they had to stare all the time. Her inner dialoged went through the roof, "Who the hell do these little Asswipes think they are? Didn't their mothers teach them not to stare! The Goddamned little mother fuckers!" What she really wanted to do was reach out and rip one of their staring little heads off to be an example for the rest, but she didn't think that it would be a really good idea to do that on her very first day in a witching school. Maybe later, she thought. She stayed quiet and continued to walk as quickly and as confidently as she dared to the front of the room.

Ron was quite mystified when Dumbledore stood at the head table and asked for silence. This had only happened once before and that was when someone had died, Ron was sure no one had died over the summer, or he would have definitely gotten some sort of a letter or heard about it in the Daily Prophet. And for the fact that he didn't, made him wonder what the hell was actually going on. "Come now, Quiet now; every one quiet now." Dumbledore said as he walked out from behind the head table and stopped next to McGonagall, who held the sorting hat in the air above the stool that was brought out every year from Dumbledore's office.

At last the Great Hall was quiet enough that he could speak he said in slow kind words, "Students I hope you all had a very productive summer and stayed out of trouble." He looked at some students in particular over the rim of his half-moon glasses; his eyes sparkled with mirth. The students he was looking at puffed up their chests, making a few of the people around them giggle. "But now," Dumbledore continued, "I must tell you that we have a very special person amongst us this year, and maybe next." Melissa groaned, letting her bag slip out of her hand and onto the floor, she HATED being called special. To her that word was only used for people who had mental disorders like Down syndrome, or something.

Dumbledore motioned her forward, and she moved towards him grudgingly, taking her bag with her in the process. There were a few hisses behind her when she leaned over to catch the shoulder strap in her hand, but it was suddenly quelled when she turned and glared at them with a look that could even rival Snape. "This," Dumbledore said, "is Melissa Agar, she is a unique..." and out of the crowed came the call of, "Ya got that right!" followed by howls of laughter from the Slytherin table.

"Now," Dumbledore said, as he cleared his throat, "If I may continue uninterrupted? Good. As I was saying," he wrapped an arm around Melissa, making her visibly stiffen, "Melissa is a unique..." he waited for a moment, and when there were no crud remarks, he continued, "case in the wizarding world. There are very few of her kind alive to day, because they mostly die when their powers open up." Now there were noises here and there around the hall; what did he mean that there were very few of her kind? Who are they? Why isn't she dead? What did he mean when he said their powers open up?

"You see students, Melissa is something we call a 'Serus flos' or in English a late bloomer. Melissa is indeed a witch, but for some unknown reason some witches, about 5five in every hundred generations, have some condition that keeps their powers from opening up normally near their eleventh birthday. So when the magic should be flowing out of their body through spells and such, it is instead stuffed in the host body until it bursts out; like stuffing a suitcase too full of clothes. This effect causes Serus Flos to be extremely sensitive..."

"Tweakie."

"What?"

"I'm not sensitive, I'm tweakie."

"Very well, uhh... tweakie, to loud noises and prone to sudden bursts of anger. This same condition causes them to have much more power then the normal wizard or witch..." Some people in the front rows scooted farther back in their seats. Melissa pulled on Dumbledore's robes stopping him from saying anything more. "Dude," she growled, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but what ever it is it's not helping!" she removed her sunglasses and placed them on top of her head, showing her flashing dark blue eyes that held large flecks of black. "Can't you see those guys? Their lookin' at me like I'm da blob that ate Chicago or somethin', can you, like, hurry it up so I kin get outta here?" Dumbledore nodded and addressed the student body once again. "In conclusion," he said, skipping over half of his speech, "I believe that Miss Agar will be able to hold her own here, and will learn quickly, so she will not be in a designated year until she caches up with her own age group. But she will be in a house, so being the first name on the list, let the sorting begin!"

People started to clap as Dumbledore sat down, Melissa knew it wasn't to congratulate her, it was to celebrate that the old prude had finally shut up and sat down. McGonagall, whose arm had came to rest at her side sometime during the long and involved speech, waved her over towards the old patched and frayed hat that probably had fifteen different species of interbred lice in it; she silently thanked whatever force was out there that she had worn her bandanna today. McGonagall lifted the hat from the stool; Melissa leaned against it fearing that if she put her full weight on it that it would snap in half, leaving her on the floor looking like a total whale. So when McGonagall told her to sit on the stool three times, she quietly refused three times. McGonagall gave up and set the hat on her head.

"Many secrets you hold, yes you do, what a life you've lead, I see what that boy did, yes I do..."

"You stay out of my fuckin' personal memories, and sort me, you bug ridden piece of trash!"

"No need for language little one now let me see...."

"I'm not little...."

"Oh yes. A good mind you have, almost a genius we have!

"Almost?!"

"What a Ravenclaw you'd make, hum, yes that you would."

"Brawk... Nevermore...!"

"Is that so? Hum, what a Slytherin you would make!"

"Stop right there! I was already warned about them by Snape. They would kill me before you even stopped saying the word Slytherin. Prejudiced bastards! Who gives a shit if I'm a muggle?"

"Well that only leaves Gryffindor."

"Yeah, and I'm not brave in the least..."

"That's too bad. GRYFFINDOR!"

McGonagall took the hat off Melissa's head, "Welcome to Gryffindor," she whispered, "I'm your head of house. Our table is over there. You let me know if anyone is harassing you and I'll put a stop to it right away. Alright?" Melissa nodded and scooped up her bag, but inside she was screaming. Who did these people think they were? Why did they think that just because she was fat that she couldn't take care of herself?

Back in her old school in Seattle she was feared. People scattered when she came down the hall. It wasn't like she liked beating people up it was just that she had had the shitie end of the stick all her life and as soon as she entered high school she demanded respect. She knew how to network; she made friends in high places, seniors and jocks on the football team. And when they weren't around, let's just say that pressure points and knowing how to break bones where her best friend. More people had broken legs that year by her then of natural causes, but of coarse she was never charged, I mean what kind of a man would you be if you say a FAT chick beat you up and broke your leg or arm? By the time she was a junior she had her own circle of friends that liked her for who she was and people just left her alone so she didn't have to implement a respect device, it was built into them already. Melissa decided that a few choice people in this place needed to learn some respect, and stop treating her like a broken doll.

As she walked towards the Gryffindor table, she turned and waved at Snape, who gave her a curt nod in return. Smiling faintly, she rounded back to the Gryffindor table, eyes flitting across the length of it until she came down to the end where there were a few extra seats next to some red head. People slowly inched away as she came near them. She smiled, yes, this is what it was like, back home, back where she should be, back where people feared and respected her. Not where she was considered a freak among freaks. Thinking this, she gave the last first year that stood in her way a good shove, which knocked him into another boy that socked him right in the face. She mentally nodded at the boy, it WAS a good punch. She couldn't help it; she was in a bad mood, she needed to cause pain, and making one kids first day of the rest of his life a hell on wheals was a good enough start for her.

As Melissa reached the end of the table she turned and kicked the underside of the benches that trailed along side the humongous Gryffindor table. This kicking seemed to scare the holy living shit out of a young man with black hair and the brightest green eyes that Melissa had ever seen. Before he was down on the bench again he had his wand out and was brandishing it at her. "Whoa. Slow down there guy," she said, repositioning the bag on her shoulder, "I just wanted to know if I could sit here," She thru her head in the direction of the empty seats. "Yeah, sure, whatever," The young man nodded and waved his now empty hand in the direction she had indicated. Melissa gave a small, humph, as thanks and sat a few seats away as not to be a bother to the group, but that was not to be. Pushing the golden plate and goblet away from herself, Melissa slid her black bag onto the table and began unzipping it.

"You know that won't work here right?" A girl whispered.

Melissa looked up to find a bushy haired girl with an 'I know everything and you don't' type look on her face. "Say what?"

"That laptop, it's not going to work here; nothing electrical works here. The magic messes with the electrical currents." Melissa smiled at her, "What's your name, guy?" the girl looked highly indignant, "I am not a guy!"

"Relax! I call everyone I don't know guy! Now what's your fuckin' name?"

"Granger, Hermione Granger." She said with the same know it all attitude.

"Well then, my names Bond, James Bond." Melissa said in the fakest British accent she could muster. She smiled, Hermione growled.

"Hermione, look I understand that you most likely read Hogwarts, A history and that it said that nothing electrical works here but I'm smarter than the stupid magic fields and computer circuits, ok? Now let me show you." Hermione cheeks puffed out. The gall of this person! How dare she tell her that she was wrong! And talking to her like an uneducated two year old, she didn't like her already.

Melissa finished unpacking her laptop, and started to fished around inside for something else. Getting fed up, she stuck her head inside where she gave a small cry of triumph "aha!" she quickly retracted her head and showed Hermione, and the four boys that had gathered around a rather low priced, but effective, mouse. Taking the cord she turned the laptop around and plugged it into the specific slot, and returned to see the mouse moving (which was being prodded, for some of the pure bloods, like Ron, had no idea what it was). "Now," she said, shooing the boys away with a swish of her hand, "we open the top, press a couple keys, wait for the screen to come on," and much to Hermione's horror it DID come on,

"WELCOME MELISSA." Was splayed across the screen.

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Just shut up and let me on the internet." The curser danced along the screen as she clicked on various Icons and finally after much clicking and growling, she was finally surfing the internet, where she seemed to be right at home. "Ok baby show um what ya kin' do." She patted the side of the screen before opening a browser and smiling when the page was instantly loaded. She gave a small squeak of, "Yes!" sounding very much like Courage the cowardly dog. Pushing the pointer towards a link that said email she clicked on it. Her small round fingers flew across the keyboard faster then Hermione had ever seen anyone ever do. The Green eyed kid was impressed and the guy with the red hair had no idea what the hell she had just done.

Username: FIREGODDESS

PASSWORD:

"Alright then, I'm in." pushing the mouse again she made it click on a link that said **forgotten items** in bold letters. In another row, right next to it, it said THEKEEPER in equally big letters.

'You didn't take anything with you! What the hells the deal Melissa?'

When Melissa read this last part she glared at the screen and gave it a good flipping off with her plump hand. "Stupid Chrissie," she mumbled. The red headed boy, who was looking over her shoulder the whole time, leaned in a little more, sticking his unkempt hair into her face and screen. "Yeah, uhh... Hello! Do you mind?" She shoved his shoulder away from her so that she could actually tell what the hell she was doing, before looking up at the head table again.

"Tell, Mandy!"

"Oh, good, still sorting." The redheaded boy was looking at her in shock, the Hermione girl looked lived, and the green eyed boy, whom Melissa suspected of being their friend, looked only slightly interested in the proceedings as if he had something that was preoccupying his mind. Looking at the red head, she said, "Name please."

"Oh, uhh... Ron Weasley."

"Yes, well, Ron is it? Will you, uhh... stop hovering!" she growled out the last two words, letting herself mentally smile at the perturbed look on his face. About to open his mouth to retort, Ron was quickly shushed by Hermione when the last name of Zimmerman, Adam was stuck into Ravenclaw. Melissa Logged off the internet, shut off the computer, and silently stowed it away as Dumbledore talked. She had already heard this before she left her house back in America. Don't go in the forest; it's called FORBIDEN for a reason, don't piss off Filch and you won't get detention for no reason, no using magic between classes, and everything else that just pertained to common sense. There was also some stupid sounding wizard game called Quidditch, which could be tried out for. The main idea of the sport had been explained to her, and in her personal opinion it sounded really dumb. I really shouldn't have such a biased view on the thing, she thought, I mean I haven't even seen a real game. Melissa quickly squashed the thought in her head.

"...now that I've told you all that, I think we should sing the school song before we eat this year; for a change of pace, and so you don't fall asleep, as you sing it, from all that yummy food." Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling with happiness, Ron slammed his head into the table, Hermione held her copy of Hogwarts: A history tighter to her chest, and the green eyed boy (whose name Melissa still didn't know) closed his eyes, thru back his head, and groaned; Melissa quirked an eyebrow. And out of the side of her head she heard someone say, "Every year I hope he'll forget to make us sing that damned song and he never does!"

A horrified look came across her face as the words sprayed from the tip of Dumbledore's wand.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts"

Her hands flew up to cover her ears.

"Teach us something please,"

She was dieing, she could feel it.

"Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,"

Ewwww... old fogies with scabby knees.

"Our heads could do with filling,"

When she heard this the first thing she thought off was Hostess. 'Hey! Where's the cream filling?!'

"With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,"

Melissa wasn't sure if she should take that as and insult or a complement.

"Dead flies and bits of fluff,"

Ok, now she was sure it was an insult.

"So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgotten,"

Well if she had forgotten her brain like her stupid friend had said, and then the school could bring that back for her, and she didn't have to go get it, she wouldn't mind.

"Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Ok, she was only here long enough to get her 'powers' under control. She WOULD NOT study until her brains rotted. If she had it her way, she wouldn't study at all.

After the song dinner was fairly uneventful, that is until Hermione shoved her book in Melissa's face and pointed to a passage on the page. "There," she squealed, "I told you so! You can't run electrical things in Hogwarts!" Hermione had a look of triumph on her face, but Melissa just rolled her eyes, if she could face down her old history teacher then she sure as hell could take this bitch down a notch or two. "Yes, uhh... Hermione was it?" she said, closing the book and slipping it back in her hands like she would a child. "As I said earlier, I've read that," There were small gasps from people around them, "and I know all about how this baby," she patted her bag, "shouldn't work. But the thing is you saw it work, so I don't know why you're still going on about this. But just to quell you I'll tell you HOW it works, alright?" she ate a bite of apple pie, mumm... my favorite, She thought. "Back home, I took the initiative to go do some research before I left, to find out if anyone out there had come up with a spell," she shoved a fork full of mashed potatoes in her mouth and swallowed, some people wrinkled their noses, "That will fix this little oversight. So I wrote an e-mail to an old friend from middle school who told me she was a witch. She had moved down into Salem. You know that place right?" They nodded. "Good. Any how, I asked her if they used computers in the classroom and if they did how that was possible, because I was going to Hogwarts and wanted to take my baby with me." She patted her bag once again.

"Well, when she read Hogwarts, she immediately responded with a long 'I'm so glad you found the power I knew you had' letter, with some short but involved spell that's supposed to change the need for electrical power into magical energy that feeds off magical fields and the users powers. Pretty cool when you think about it. Yeah so I was feeling lucky so I only just cast it just before Snape picked me up with that port-o-thingy. Actually, I would have made an incredible ass out of myself if it hadn't of worked, wouldn't I?" Hermione was still slightly sulking, but smiled when Melissa finished her last sentence, she didn't want to forgive her so quickly; but something about her made her insides trust her, something friendly just rolled off her and she couldn't help laughing with Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville.

Melissa was still slightly chuckling as a hand was thrust into her face. "Whoa..." she balked, "...the hell." Looking up, she saw that the hand was attached to the green eyed boy, who was smiling. "Harry Potter," he said.

She took his hand, "Melissa Agar."

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this is only chapter one and this will be a dramaromance. some things will be changed and will most likly be posted and taken off again before i get her how i like her and not to be a marry sue! yes i realise that she seams like a hell spawn marry sue but i'm working on it!  
  
see you guys 


	2. Chapter 2

If I didn't say so in the last chapter this doesn't belong to me but to Goddess J.K. Rowling, who is richer then I ever will be in **_14_ **life times. But here we go... still need a title, but this chapter is sort of a filler, and gives you some info about Melissa's education before Hogwarts; and how she came to know Mr. Snape.

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**Chapter two **

The next hour was filled with laughter, the passing of stories and information. Harry, whom Melissa liked very much, told her about the war with Voldermort, to much shaking and shivering (of which Melissa didn't understand in the least). After the account of the war so far, and what had happened in the past, Melissa was quick to side with the Order of the Phoenix, saying that the war sounded too much like the black civil rights period in the 1960's. To that Hermione nodded her head, it did sound very similar to the problems of the civil rights activists. Only this time the muggleborn's had traded places with the blacks and the deatheaters were the police and government. Hermione had never thought of it that way until now.

Ron, to his credit, lightened the mood by asking what her relationship to Snape was, for he had caught the small wave and nod they had exchanged. "Oh," she smiled, "Snape is one of my tutors." Looking at each other, they asked in unison, "Your tutor?"

"Well yeah, I mean you can't expect me to come here after being a witch for only three fuckin' months and know everything now do you? Someone has to teach me the basics. Especially when I'm this old; I don't know if you noticed but I caught those looks you older ones were giving me, when I walked in."

"But... SNAPE!" Ron said, expressing everyone's disbelief in two simple words. Waving her fork, she brushed them off, "He's a very intelligent man," she whispered,

"Very smart; He could teach you a lot if you gave him the chance. Knows quite a bit about the data stuff."

"Defense against the dark arts?" she nodded. This only enforced the idea of Snape being too much of a greasy git for the golden trios like.

"Yeah, that stuff. He's taught me some useful spells already, like one that can take care of something called a Bogart? And another one that makes your opponents wand shoot out of their hand! That's pretty damned cool!"

"Expelliarmus?"

"Yeah that one; it seems to be fairly useful, although it can be untrustworthy." Melissa drawled, as she eyed the contence of her goblet critically, before setting it aside, deciding it wasn't fit for human consumption. Harry nodded at her comment, "I agree; it isn't very reliable, but it's saved my life lots of times."

"That's all well and good, but I want something that's going to do the trick every time, you see what I'm getting at?" There were some yeah's and uh-huh's making it seem that they were still interested in what she was saying. She wasn't fooled.

"As I was saying, Snape is a very intelligent man, very willing to pass down his knowledge. That is if the people he's teaching aren't complete idiots. Hell! He got me up to fifth year potions in four months and I didn't know anything about anything!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione gawked at her, but ignored the idiot crack. Dean on the other hand proclaimed, "Bullshit!"

"No way," Melissa dug around in her pant pocket for a minute before pulling out a small vile. The liquid inside was clear and when the top came off, it smelled of the worst kind of rotten eggs imaginable. Needless to say that Dean put the cork back quite suddenly, and handed it over. "What is that?" Ron asked, not really wanting an answer but getting one anyway. She shrugged, "Ya's got me, Snape gave me some instructions, and said do it. So I did. And the weird thing is that he told me to always have it with me. Like a good luck charm or somethin'."

Hermione was impressed... The potion itself was advanced, residing in the restricted section of the library, it was hard to make and get proper ingredients for; and the main ingredient had to be dolled out by St. Mungos. An anger reducing potion like that was usually only given to psychotics in St. Mungos' that were in danger of hurting themselves or their orderlies. Melissa would have to be watched, she decided, but not so much that she would know. But why would Snape not tell her what she was making? It made no sense.

But a question still burned inside of Hermione. Why did Melissa have an anger reducing potion in her pant pocket? Was it because of the 'sudden bursts of anger' that Serus flos supposedly had? Where they so bad that she could hurt herself or someone else? She had known this girl on the better half of an hour and a half; her anger had only spiked into slight annoyance. This thought did nothing to calm Hermione's rattled nerves. Were Serus flos so excitable that they had to be given a drug to calm them down? She sure hoped not. Research was in dire need here.

Hermione was brought back to the present by Ron's barking laughter, "You didn't say that did you, ah hehehe!"

"I did, I swear! I was like, 'don't a hit me mass' a, I be a good Toby, I be a good Toby!' then she threw up her hands and stomped off into the living room!" Hermione looked around at her friends faces. They were all absorbed in the story that Melissa was telling, each of them looked elated that this out of the ordinary young woman had come into their house, but none more then Neville. A wistful feature had taken up residence on their faces as she acted out her story thru her hands.

Just as she was finishing her anecdote, Melissa exclaimed, "Oi, what the hell!" and all the food on the table disappeared without her consent. "Dinners done," Harry said, yawning, his arm's stretching above his mop of black hair. "I wasn't!" Dean scratched his stomach and said, "Damn," causing Melissa to give a defiant stare his way which was in the general direction of the head table where Dumbledore was just standing from his chair. "Well, now that everyone is well fed and about to fall asleep on me; I think it's about time that the prefects lead all the first years and... others..." Dumbledore stopped for a moment and gave Melissa a good staring at; it made her want to rip his beady little eyes out, "to their respective common rooms and all get to bed. So, get! Go on, get out of here!"

With that said, Melissa looked back at the table, and noticed Ron and Hermione missing. "This way please, we're Gryffindor prefects, come with us please." 'Found um,' she thought, picking up her bag and began to follow the throng of small children. That is until she felt a hand turn her around. "Don't touch me!" she bellowed, and turned so quickly she almost smacked professor McGonagall straight in the face. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she said, trying to hold back a giggle of embarrassment. 'Good way to start out the year,' Melissa thought, as she patted McGonagall's arm, 'go and smack one of your best subject's teachers in the face. Woo, go me!' Melissa gave herself a mental thumbs-up.

McGonagall assured Melissa that she wasn't hurt but just a little startled. "You don't need to be so jumpy, no one is out to hurt you here." She just sighed and said "Right," under her breath, "why don't I believe that?" McGonagall looked at her quizzically, but let the comment pass. Watching some of the last students leave, she waved for Melissa to fallow her out of the great hall.

Getting her first good look at the entrance hall was so amazing for Melissa she almost dropped her baby. Being a person of slight intellect (she hoped), she knew that there was nothing like this anywhere else in the world. Something so big and with such grandeur, that it was hard to explain. Her mouth flopped open like the salmon that her home city was so famous for, and for some reason, she just couldn't seem to keep it closed. 'Wow,' she thought, looking around. 'How I wouldn't love to hear an orchestra in here.' Melissa quickly came back into herself when she heard McGonagall's authoritive voice in her head. "Miss Agar what **is** your problem? Let's get a move on now, you act like you've never seen the Entrance Hall before."

"I haven't." she muttered, still looking up at the nonexistent ceiling. "I was portkeyed directly to the great hall." McGonagall closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Wonderful." She said wondering what exactly Albus was thinking when he requested a portkey from the ministry. "Nevertheless, we must be on our way. I have things to do too you know." Melissa quickly grabbed her slipping sunglasses off her head and bound towards McGonagall, her baby slapping against her large love handles.

The trip to Gryffindor tower was fairly uneventful, that is until professor McGonagall had to spend five minutes explaining why the paintings were walking to and fro in their frames, and why they were wishing her good luck on the coming year. Finally McGonagall just gave up, threatened her with house point deductions ("what are house points?") before they even got to her rooms, which, to Melissa, had to be some sort of recorded. They continued on their way with Melissa looking at the odd portrait which smiled and waved. She did note, however, that the castles staircases moved, and begged Professor McGonagall to stand for a moment so she could figure out the movement patterns. After a few seconds of standing and staring, and McGonagall's bitching, Melissa turned and asked which floor the tower was on; McGonagall pointed.

Melissa strutted over to stairwell (as well as anyone her size could strut) and watched the movement of the stairs for a moment; McGonagall looked at her with interest. As soon as all the flight of stairs were in place with one last groan, she was gone, taking the steps two at a time. Her huge body didn't stop or slow down when she came to a landing she just kept on going, and before long she was on the third landing looking over the railings at an amazed McGonagall, and reset the strap on her shoulder. "Well," she asked. "Are you coming or not?" On the outside she was confident, but on the inside she was chastising herself for being so reckless.

'Good job! Give yourself a heart attack! Damn this asthma.'

'Sucks to your ass-mar!'

'Quiet you.'

'Make me!'

The voice was immediately put in an imaginary safe, and dropped off an imaginary cliff.

'I'll be good!' it squeaked.

Melissa chuckled to herself as McGonagall appeared on the second landing. Being insane wasn't half bad as long as people didn't see you talking to yourself and you didn't have a psychotic voice in your head. Melissa was one of the few lucky ones. only one personality and only one slightly aggravating voice. It only popped up when she was being stupid, was bored, or needed someone to talk to; Lucky her. She was hoping he wouldn't show up too often here at Hogwarts.

"I sincerely hope this won't be an everyday occurrence, Miss Agar... You are trying my patience!" McGonagall shrieked as she put her foot on the last step. Melissa assured her that it wouldn't and that she had to expel some of her pent up excitement in a physical activity. The evil little voice snorted at this ("you just wanted to show off!), Melissa just smiled; and McGonagall chastised her a bit more before setting off again up the grand staircase, this time at a normal speed, to the seventh floor. The professor lead Melissa through doorways up even more stairs and under tapestries, which she decided that she would have to find later and have a good look at.

Finally just as Melissa was going to let the little child in her out and scream 'ARE WE THEIR YET?' McGonagall stopped in front of a fairly large portrait of a woman in the tackiest pink dress Melissa had ever seen in her life. "This is the Fat Lady," Minerva explained. "She is the guardian of the Gryffindor tower; if you ever want to go into the common room just give her the password."

"And that is?" Melissa asked.

"Knave,"

"Knave," She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Alright it's stored away for a latter date." McGonagall just rolled her eyes and shook her head, turned and kept walking up the hall.

"Hey! Hey! Where are you going? Aren't you going to show me where the dorms are?" Melissa called after McGonagall dissipating form. "You're not sleeping in the dorms," The professor said, "you're going to have your own rooms. now come with me, or I'll let you sleep in the corridor for the rest of the year!" Melissa wasn't fool enough to not take her word on it; she also wasn't taking the chance of getting kicked out of her own room by asking why she had it; and personally she didn't care.

Melissa was a creature of privacy. Being alone most of the time suited her just fine; she was a loner by nature and liked it that way. Spending nine months with perfect strangers (admittedly not strangers by the end of nine months) was a little more invasion then she could've handled. Letting them see her in her most despising of moments was not something she was cherishing when she had found out that dorms were what she was going to be sleeping in. but now! Melissa's heart jumped for joy, she wasn't going to have to be around people twenty-four-seven! And she thanked the god that she didn't believe in, for it. Melissa didn't care if this room was going to be a hole in the wall with a cot tucked inside, or something strait out of Trump Towers, it was her own and she was glad for it.

By the time she had caught up with McGonagall she had turned a corner and was halfway down the next hall when she stopped and pointed to another portrait. "This," McGonagall said, "is Shep." Looking at the painting, Melissa saw a young man about 20 years old, he had a small harp on his knee and a Shepard's staff was resting in the grass at his sandaled feet. A flock of about twenty sheep flitted around him in the back ground, randomly bleating and grazing on grass. He reminded Melissa of a druidic Shepard, to tell you the truth. "Oh hello," he said, "are you to be my charge?" his voice had a lilting tone, soft and gentle like, as if he practiced talking to his sheep. McGonagall answered for her, "Yes Shep, Miss Agar will be you charge, and I expect you to only open for the password!" She said severely. "Oh of course Minerva, I know the rules," he said, rolling his eyes and plucking at his harp, "keep her safe, no one gets in without a password, report suspicious activities around the room, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera..."

"Yes well," McGonagall sniffed, "make sure you remember well. Hewlett Packard."

Melissa raised an eyebrow at the password. "That's not really my password is it?" she asked as Shep's frame swung from the wall exposing yet ANOTHER flight of stairs. "Yes, it is Miss Agar, why do you ask?"

"Why? Because anyone could figure it out! I mean, just look on the back of my computer and there it is plain as frickin' day!" McGonagall looking at her sowerly, knowing she had been beaten out of any response she could have made, and continued rising up the stairs. That is until McGonagall stopped at a door that looked like it came straight out of a monastery. The wood was chipped in some places and it looked as if someone had tried to clean it with a steel brush. Grabbing the iron loop that was used as a handle, McGonagall pushed open the door and ushered Melissa around her and into her rooms.

Melissa's first reaction was to say 'is this some sort of a joke?' but decided to keep quiet. "Well," McGonagall said, "how do you like it?"

"It's very nice," Melissa lied, "but, umm... where's all the furniture?" that had been the first thing Melissa had noticed about the room. There was no furniture! It was spacious, and the floor plan was all right, and in anyplace in the room you stood you could see the exit; just how Melissa liked it. "And the windows?" she asked stepping a little farther into the room. "The furniture will be put in during the night, while you're sleeping." Melissa whipped around, "I'm not comfortable with that, people walking around when I'm sleeping..."

"No one will be in here; it's just a spell that was cast on these rooms. The spell analysis your personality and the like, and organizes the room how you would like it."

"Umm... I don't think that you would do this for every student that comes along."

McGonagall sighed, "Of course not, this used to be the rooms for the head of Gryffindor house," Melissa heart clenched in panic, "I didn't put her out of a home did I?", "But I chose to broad in another room when I started to work here." The student sighed in relief.

"Now a question of my own, Miss Agar. Where is your trunk?" By this time Melissa had been poking her head in to one of the doorways that came off the living room, or what Melissa thought would be the living room. Looking at McGonagall she smiled; "What trunk?" she asked sweetly. "The trunk with your school supplies." The professor said irritably. "OH, That trunk! I don't have one." She poked her head into another room, this was the bathroom, "And why not?"

"It's that creepy old man's fault," Melissa called, "he said he would take me to a bank and get me some 'wizard money' as he called it, but he never did."

McGonagall looked like a disgruntled owl after Melissa had said this, "That old fool," she crowed, "He's getting so forgetful in his old age. Pretty soon he'll forget he's headmaster altogether!" Melissa decided not to say anything on this particular matter as she walked into the bedchamber. She knew it was the bedroom mostly because there was a cot tucked away in a corner that looked like it came strait out of a refugee camp somewhere over in Africa (or should she say down, now?). Slipping her bag off her shoulder and onto the cot, she winced at the great din of the squeaking springs as the mattress settled. "... Miss Agar I'll be going to yell at professor Dumbledore now... and if I have it my way you'll be on your way to diagon ally in the morning with a whole sack of galleons..."

Melissa heard more grumblings and the outer door close, checking her time piece, she stood and made her way into the bathroom; finding it fully stocked in everything she would need for a shower, turned on the water and divested herself of her clothes – making sure to stay far away from the full length mirror – and hopped under the spray. The shower was short, but soothing, even when the bar of soap shot out of her wet hands and landed on her head. After she had scrubbed everywhere at least twice and washed her hair as many times if not more; she hopped out of the shower and grabbed a towel off the rack and began to towel dry her long dirty-blond hair.

Walking back into the bedroom and over to the cot, Melissa groped for her old clothes knowing that was all she had to wear and was not comfortable in the nude. "Here pants... heerrrre paaaanntss..." She thought, now feeling around on the floor. "I know I left them right here..." lifting the towel from her face, she looked around on the floor by the bed; all her clothes were gone, but her bag was still there. "Oddities beyond oddities..." Melissa thought, "well I'm not gonna go around necked. What to..." and there as plain as day, across the room on a chair that wasn't there before, was a pair of pajamas with a note on top. "Good god, how did someone get in here with out me knowing?" wrapping the towel around her body she trekked across the room and began to read the note.

Dear Miss Agar,

I hope that you find your rooms satisfactory. Do not worry about books and uniforms; we will discuss such matters in the morning after a good nights sleep.

Headmaster of Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I hope your pajamas fit, and your day clothes shall be returned before sunup.

Melissa ran a hand through her damp hair in agitation. "I hate that man," she thought, "I really do. I just don't trust him." She tossed the scrap of paper on the floor, and began dressing herself. "Wow, it fits!" marveling at the texture of the fabric, Melissa smiled, picked up the wet towel and tossed it back into the bathroom, and sighed. Gingerly picking her bag off the cot, Melissa lie down and winced as something began to gab her in the back, "this is gonna be a really good nights sleep I'll tell you now..." she thought. "Well let's get on it..." and her mind went blank.

Her mental exercises weren't that hard for her, she had been meditating, or getting in tune with her self for about six or seven years before she had found out she was a witch; But almost immediately afterwards Melissa had started wakening up her roommate and best friend, Krissie, with screaming nightmares (And Melissa Agar does _not_ scream from being frightened). The dreams had slightly put her off kilter until Krissie had told Mr. Snape about them, who had balked and had requested the use of their fireplace (even though they had no idea what for). An hour later of playing what's that food in the back of their refrigerator, Mr. Snape had come back with a demand from the crazy old guy that she be taught Occlumency. Melissa was all up for whatever the hell that was and jumped in full force, she was only slightly upset at his teaching style. Having to clear her mind wasn't a big deal because she did that every night just to be able to sleep. So about a month after the Occlumency training started Melissa was able to throw off about any attack at anytime Snape through them. Severus declared her a savant to have picked it up so fast, she just smiled.

Soon Melissa was asleep and having a peaceful dream about the days to come; with odd people and interesting beings, and unexpected romances.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yeah and so there it is ladies and gents. next stop headmaster office and Diagon (whatever) alley!


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Melissa woke the next morning just the way she liked waking; in a warm, soft bed with a heavy comforter cocooned around her. 'Wait,' she thought 'this ain't the bed that I fell asleep in…' she opened her eyes slowly and took in her surroundings, which where, well… not very much of anything. Actually, she couldn't see anything; not even her hand in front of her face. Melissa through her hands out in all directions before her left hand came into contact with something that felt very much like velvet. She grabbed it, and pulled down, with no movement in the fabric she tried left and it moved to show a room that was totally different then the one she fell asleep in.

Most of the furniture was mostly made out of Mahogany which had a dark finish. Each piece was cut in a modern Victorian type of way. Melissa decided she loved it. everything was perfect, even the height of the bed, which was pretty high considering Melissa's 5' 4" stature, so she had to use a small stool to get back on. She just wanted to jump up and down with glee, but instead she contained herself and contented with opening every drawer she could find in the room. She was even amazed at the lighting which had about half a dozen 1800's style gas lamps hanging from the walls; it gave the room an ambient glow. The next thing to come was the wardrobe; Melissa was pleased to see held her clothes, they had been cleaned and pressed; whoever had done it had done one hell of a job the student decided, she then she changed out of the pajamas.

Popping her head out the top of her shirt, Melissa noticed something out of the corner of her eye. 'Oh my god…' she thought, 'it's a balcony!' rushing over to the French doors she unhooked the latch, through the doors open and breathed the unfamiliar air. It was crazy she decided; there was no pollution, no cars rushing back and forth on the I-5 corridor, no trains crashing into each other; compared to what she was used to it was totally silent; it was great. Tossing her still free hair over her shoulder, Melissa looked through the nearest window and gasped. Was that a naked boy? Her jaw dropped, it was! Melissa blinked several more times before turning away, she had better be careful before looking in that window again, she might get an eye full… another eyeful. But still, she liked the balcony, just like everything else; she supposed that was because the spell made everything for her…ha!

Now even happier with her surroundings, the woman wandered through the her bedroom out the door and into the new living room, which had the same style as the bedchamber only this time an entire wall was dedicated to one gigantic bookshelf; Melissa decided that she had to fill at least half before she left in June. Standing on the hearth (AN: the hearth is the place directly in front of the area where you start the fire, NOT the place where you put pictures and such.) she looked in each direction and nodded. In a semicircle around her sat a sofa and two rather plush chairs that had clawed feet these furniture's where sunk into the floor so you had to step down three times to come level again. That bookshelf was off to her right up against the wall that held the door to her bedroom. And to the left was a small kitchenette and dinning room that had a very small table. The bathroom was just about all the same except the tub and sink were now larger and made out of white marble, and that damndable full length mirror was gone.

Melissa was just about to go explore the kitchenette when there came a knock on the door. She grumbled about being a curious little kitten and wanting to find her laptop, before she opened the door and gasped to see Snape standing there in the door way, in all of his gothic like glory. "Well hello handsome, where have you been all my life." She said in a playful manor; Snape said nothing but raised his eyebrow and stood static in the same spot. Melissa frowned, "that was a joke damnit. You know ha…ha…"

"Ha…ha…ha…"

"Wow three Ha's, you overachiever you."

Snape's upper lip rose in a very decisive sneer, and he pushed himself past Melissa who was doing her damnedest to make sure he didn't get in. it was a sort of teasing gesture between the two, she would block his way into the room and he would sneer and push past. She didn't remember when this little game had started but it was something that made each of them smile inside. As soon as he was inside Snape began a small but thorough, search about the apartment. "If I know you," he said from the bathroom, "and I do know you, you were looking for this." He came calmly out of the bathroom, holding Melissa's black laptop bag by the strap, the case itself barely inches above the ground. Melissa smiled, "I knew I liked having you around for a reason." And took the bag from him. "Quite. But miss agar, if you don't mind me asking what exactly was it doing in the bathroom?"

"How am I supposed to know? I had it by the side of the bed when I fell asleep."

"Speaking of sleep. Did you…?"

"Of course I did, do you think I'm stupid? That I want nightmares? Nightmares ruin my beauty sleep, and I need a lot of beauty sleep." Snape gave a sort of wobbly smile at that, as if saying 'that's horrible', and 'that's funny' at the same time.

Melissa said nothing after that, but instead walked over to the small dining room table and set down her bag, and pulled out a chair. "Ok, Snape. You didn't come here to find my computer for me. So what's up?"

"That's Professor Snape, sir, or Mr. Snape, to you. And I came here to fetch you for Professor Dumbledore. He says he wants to see you in his office, right NOW." Melissa scratched at her head, she had a tendency to do that when she was concerned, curious, or just plain nervous, "well, he's going to have to wait. I haven't had time to get my shoes on or find my watch, or get a pot of coffee in me OR eat some toast, and you know how I like toast in the mornings." Snapes eyes thinned, "Will you hurry up and get ready then Miss Agar. You're wasting time; we will stop off at the great hall for some breakfast."

Melissa's nose scrunched at the thought of food. Just the sight of food most mornings was enough to make her vomit. She didn't understand how people could just inhale scrambled eggs and bacon, hash browns, cold cereal, oatmeal, any thing that could be considered a breakfast food. It was just disgusting, and nothing could make her see it any other way. Infact most food made her queasy. The only thing that didn't oddly enough was toast and jelly. "You can stop off for breakfast, I'll stop for two seconds; one to get the all important coffee, and another to slather some toast with preserves. And I'm out of there before I blow."

"Yes," he sneered, "that's right; you don't eat most of the time do you?"

"Nope, not if I can help it. Once or twice every few days and I'm good."

"That doesn't seem healthy."

"I could care less!" Melissa crowed, "Now are we going to set here all day yammering about my eating habits, or are we going to Doombledoor's office?" She said, mispronouncing Dumbledore's name on propose. Hands on her hips she gave Snape the stare down until he harrumphed and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, and crossed his legs. 'Yeah,' she thought 'that's what I thought.' Making sure that Snape was busy, which entailed picking lint off his woolen robes; she set out to locate her possessions; which on hindsight, should have been done before she set about exploring.

About fifteen minutes later Melissa had properly taken care of herself. Having dug her gray hoodie and brush out of her bag she brushed and tied back so as not to get into her face, and slung the hoodie around her shoulder and onto her body; oh that reminded her of something. Her boots had been lodged under the over sized bed, but they looked as if someone had, well… she didn't know exactly what they had done to them, but they looked and felt brand new; and that was fine by her. Melissa's watch was found in the most obvious place in the world… the kitchenette floor. 'Of course,' she thought, bending over to pick it up, 'why didn't I think of it sooner? Don't all watches belong on the kitchen floor?' finally latching the clock to her large wrist, she waltzed out into the living room, (AN: when we're in Melissa's rooms, it's going to be called the living room, when we're in British land (i.e.: the rest of Hogwarts) it's the common room. Ok? Ok.) And poked Snape in the shoulder. "Hey thanks for casting those spells on my bag."

"What spells?"

"You know the travel bag spell and the feather weight spell."

"Oh yes, uh, well you're welcome." He grumbled. "Are you finally ready?"

Melissa snapped her fingers and pointed towards the door. "Lets get crack-a-laken'." And they left.

The journey was fairly uneventful, that is until Snape took twenty points from some random Ravenclaw for trying to hex some random Slytherin behind their back. During this encounter Melissa put her two cents worth in, 'you could at least fight fair', and 'it's the first day of school and you get in trouble! That's pathetic!' she would have had more to say but Snape in his very treachery manner asked her to, "please be quiet." That's teacher for 'shut the hell up!' Melissa wasn't totally silent, she kept sniggering as Snape told the poor second year that she was going to have a week of detention with filch and have clean out his first years cauldrons. Melissa crossed her arms as Snape sent the girl away in tears, "Was that really necessary?" she asked. Snape said nothing and continued on their way. They walked for awhile, down corridors and up stairs, down stairs, until they heard… "Hey Melissa!" she turned to see who in the hell had already learned her name. 'Of course,' she thought, 'that potter guy.' Harry was rushing down the corridor at her a smile on his face, hair a mess, and robes billowing around him. Unfortunately Snape was the one that answered his call. "We have no time for you Potter. We're in a hurry." Melissa rolled her eyes, and slinked an arm around Harry whom had finally caught up with them.

"What's up guy?" she asked, a smile spread across her puge ball face. Harry shrugged his shoulders which across Melissa had draped an arm. "Nothing much."

"Nothing much huh? Well where's that Ron guy and that Hermione know-it-all," Snape smirked. "Hermione's not a know it all! She gets things wrong some of the time." Melissa through back her head and laughed. "Only some of the time?" Harry blushed and mussed his hair "yeah," 'Ahhh so that was why it was so messy.' "So where are they?"

"Well Hermione is in the library. I think Rons in the Great Hall eating."

Melissa just raised her eyebrows and removed her arm, shrugging she looked up to see Snape had stopped in his tracks. "We're here Miss Agar. Don't take to long. I'll wait for you here." 'Finally,' Melissa thought, 'that took a lot longer then it did last night.' "I'm only getting some toast and coffee. I can't take that long." She said glancing at Snape incongruously. Suddenly he pulled something out of his cloak. "Before I forget," he said, "the Headmaster wanted me to give this to you."

Melissa retrieved the object from his hand and smiled. "It's about time that old man replaced my mug," it was a stainless steal mug about 6 inches high and had the Hogwarts crest embossed on the side. She nodded at Snape, "Thanks a bunch." And she entered the Great Hall, Harry trailing on her heals. "What was that all about?" Harry asked as he looked around for a spot to sit. "Dumbledore decided that my old mug wasn't fit to live, so he tossed it in the air and blew it up." ("Harry!) He turned to Melissa his eyes wide, "he did what?"

"He – blew – it – up." ("Harry! You hoo!") Shaking his head, Harry turned to the voice that had been calling him for the last few seconds, smiling he wave at the owner and began walking over to it. "Hey, Ron!"

Not many people knew it about Melissa but when she was a new or strange situation like she was now she needed to be told what to do; she needed exact guidance. Now don't get her wrong, she could do things for herself, but she was in a whole new country, still suffering from culture shock, jet lag, and a whole host of other problems that were just adding to her reservations. Honestly, she didn't know if it would be considered rude to just invite yourself into their breakfast party or not; she didn't want to chance it. So when Harry grasped her wrist as she raised her hand to scratch at her scalp, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Of coarse the action made her skin crawl, but Melissa had always believed that showing things like that was a sign of weakness.

Harry drug Melissa over to where Ron was eating near the end of the table and sat next to his friend and motioned for her to sit on the other side. Melissa only stood there, her lip razing higher and higher in disgust at what Ron was eating, then at what Harry was dishing up on his plate. "Well," Ron said around something that might have been hash browns "aren't you going to sit?" she could feel the bile rising in her throat. "I don't think so," she grimaced "seeing food this early in the morning," 'or any other time,' she mumbled, "makes me sick." Ron and Harry looked at each other then back at the American. "Are you saying you don't eat breakfast?" Melissa put some preserves on a piece of toast, "yes," she said, biting into the bread, "that's exactly what I'm saying." Letting the toast dangle from her porgy mouth, she filled up her new mug with black coffee and bade the two men a due figuring that she had let Snape to his own devices long enough.

When Melissa found Snape again he was leaning against a wall eyeing two students, who happened to be flirting by a broom cupboard, suspiciously. "So this how you get your kicks Mr. Snape? Watching other people?" she gasped dramatically and gave a friendly gab to his side, "do you like to watch, Severus Snape?!" Growling darkly he turned away in a manner that said 'I don't know you, why are you following me?' she took after him in hot pursuit.

Severus called out the names of classrooms as they passed, "this is the transfigurations class, Miss Agar. And here is the charms room; you had better remember where these are because Hogwarts does not have a map." But of coarse she wouldn't remember because she was too busy concentrating on the people who were staring at her as if she were the worlds biggest moron for trailing after the most hated teacher in Hogwarts (not that she knew that at the time) and not running away from him when he was distracted by pointing out classrooms; but she didn't care, she just smiled waved and said 'hello', and 'how are you' in her best fuck off voice. She even through in a couple of cockatoos to sweeten the deal. Melissa could've sworn she saw the flash of a wand before she turned a corner.

After awhile Snape finally stopped in front of one of the ugliest statue that Melissa had ever seen in her life. It was, she thought, a griffin or something like that. They just stood there for a moment as she looked up at Snape, "Well, forget which way?"

"Hardly." Melissa took another big gulp of her black coffee; usually she didn't take it black. It was too strong most of the time and she didn't take that long to wake up. White coffee for her was enough most of the time, she didn't understand it today; she just wouldn't wake up. she had been yawning through her teeth the whole time up here. She should have been wide wake and jumping off the ceiling by now. She stifled a yawn, "where to now?" Snape just furrowed his eyebrows as if trying to remember something that absolutely disgusted him before he spat out, "Sugar Daddy." Melissa swallowed a gulp of coffee and looked at her teacher, "Say what?" Severus just shoved her in the direction that the statue had been; she hadn't even noticed that it had hopped out of their way to reveal a moving circular staircase. 'Well how about that,' she thought, subduing another yawn, 'not every day you see an animate statue.'

As the stairs finally came to a stop, Severus brushed passed Melissa and knocked on the wooden door that had appeared at the top of the stairs. "Come in Severus, come in, Miss Agar you too." Snape opened the door and waited for Melissa to walk into the office, if that's what it could be called. It looked more like a museum dedicated to the weird and just plain unusual. She was utterly amazed by the gizmos on the tables and the hundreds of portraits that she assumed where of peoples of importance. "Well Miss Agar? Do you approve?" Melissa rolled her eyes but didn't say anything back to Dumbledore's friendly sarcasm; instead she made her way to his desk and sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. Dumbledore motioned for Severus to come round the other side of the desk and whispered something in his ear (that Snape didn't seem to be too happy about) and pushed a small stone into his hand. Severus stalked out of the office with a loud grumbling.

It had to have been at least a minute before Melissa realized that no one in the room had said anything and the silence suddenly became very intense, but Melissa didn't know if it was just her or if she should say something. Fortunately she didn't have to, for the very second she opened her mouth, a great plume of fire and smoke erupted in the center of his desk and almost gave her a heart attack! Now Melissa had seen a lot of weird shit in the five months that she had been a witch. She had started seeing buildings where she knew for a fact weren't there, seen little potato creatures running around her apartment building gardens and seen a genuine werewolf running around downtown; now she wasn't sure but she could've sworn she saw a vampire sucking on a prostitutes neck one night near midnight in gasworks park, of course she had been scared out of her mind, got her friends and vamoosed so she didn't exactly get a good look but she still swore she saw that girls shirt drenched in blood. But seeing thin air implode? Granted that wasn't as strange as the huge gray wolf she had barricaded her door against, but honestly, how often do you see a fire start from nothing?

Dumbledore must have thought it was quite normal because he just stared at the fire for a moment, before it erupted again in to a pile of feathers and a red and gold bird stood on the desk a rather think scroll in its beak. "The Goblins take their time, Fawks?" Dumbledore asked as he took the paper from the bird. Melissa just stared at the animal and felt something in the pit of her stomach that felt like someone had lit a match under her ribs. As she looked and time past, she could feel the fire growing in size and heat until she could feel her flesh melting off her bones. The image of her insides boiling, melting like wax entered her mind as a fevered flush came to her cheeks. As her head tipped back onto the chair, Melissa let a small groan of distress escape her lips. Slipping into the state between conciseness and unconsciousness, Melissa could hear one beautiful quavering melody that stopped her decent. She smiled in the eternal darkness of her mind, "Superstar, The Carpenters" she mumbled, that song had always made her smile even when she was a kid, it was typical of her that it would stop her from fainting. She could feel it as her mind was pulled up and out of the blackness by the music, but as she was, she swore she could hear one word being repeated in the very farthest recesses of her mind. "Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter!" until it was the penultimate thought, feeling, and want in her mind. Then suddenly, as a wave from the shore, the sound receded as she began to move out of the darkness "Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter! Firestarter!" Melissa pushed the tendrils of her mind towards the voice knowing innately that that one sound, that one word would be very important in the future and that she shouldn't leave without remembering it.

As Melissa was finally pulled out of the inner reaches of mind her, she felt as if she were being incased in rubber. Compared to the airy cloisters in the chapel of her mind her first breath of air in what seemed like hours was like trying to inhale a mixture of seawater and ammonia. Coming back from such a place to reality was shocking to Melissa; it was as if she were waking up from her first nightmare. "NO!" Melissa didn't remember opening her eyes, she only knew that suddenly she was face to face with an over sized peacock whose eyes were boring into her soul. Startled Melissa slammed back in her seat and held the arm rests with a death grip. The bird, still staring at her, let out a screech nothing like the warbling notes in her mind; instead it was a harsh tone that screamed at Melissa one word, "Firestarter!", before it flew off to its perch.

She rubbed her head as she slouched down in the over stuffed chair. "God damn," she moaned, "that was a little sudden. Holy shit I need a Vicadin." Dumbledore waved his wand over her head, "better?" he asked staring at her with concern. Melissa smiled and nodded, "yeah, wow you're gonna hav' ta teach me dat one." She rubbed her head again amazed that the pain had gone already. Dumbledore ignored her, "Miss Agar, what happened to you?"

"Migraine" she explained, "ever since I had my first power explosion I've been getting them off and on, but I usually pass out afterwards something here must have stopped me. It's really weird but I always feel like I'm forgetting something when I wake up." The headmaster frowned as he sat in his high wingback chair. "That does seem to be a bit worrying; I want you to go see madam pomfrey after your shopping excursion is finished. Maybe she can shed some light on the subject." Dumbledore tugged on his beard as he regarded her, "It seems to me as if fauks gave you a start."

"Well that didn't help any"

"I don't suppose it did."

"What is he anyway?" Albus smiled, "A phoenix." Melissa's eyes widened as she looked at the bird on its perch. "A real live phoenix? As in, rise from the ashes type thing?" the man nodded. Melissa sat up straighter in her chair, "Wow, this magic thing is just getting better and better; what next the loc ness monster and real fire-breathing dragons?"

"Dragon's are real Miss Agar." She rolled her eyes. "Well. I believe your life is about to get even better," he tossed her a small brown bag that was unrealistically light. "Are these the two hundred ships you promised me?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Two hundred ships?"

"Yeah you know Galleons. Ships… ha ha." He shook his head and continued, "That is your Hogwarts scholarship that you are initialed to. But you are not to spend it on anything but school supplies in Diagon alley." Melissa twisted the bag in her hands and thought about what the old man had said, "all right, but how am I supposed to get there? Isn't it supposed to be in London?" just as she finished her sentences there came a great slam on the door. The old man's eye began to twinkle, man she hated when he did that. "Come in Hagrid!"

Melissa turned around in her seat to have a look at his 'Hagrid' person and wished she hadn't. She had seen a lot of tall people; most of her best friend's family was bordering on the 6' 06'' range, but this guy had to have been at least eight foot tall at the minimum. All that her mind processed was 'holy shit!' When Melissa was a child she had had an incident with a next door neighbor about whether or not giants existed or not, Melissa had said that they didn't. She was wrong.

"Melissa let me introduce you to Hagrid, our grounds keeper." Dumbledore waved his hand in Hagrid's direction and smiled. "Hey." She squeaked. "Hagrid will be taking you to Diagon alley to show you around and introduce you to the gringotts goblins. They say they have matter of great importance to speak to you about." Dumbledore proclaimed, shoving a rolled up paper in her direction. "Give that to the head goblin on shift, he'll know what to do with it." Melissa took the paper and stood up. "Well I guess that's that." She looked at Hagrid, her neck craning above her. "Maybe we should get this show on the road?" the large man just smiled and nodded, his scraggly hair flying every which way. "Very well then," Dumbledore said, "I will see you this afternoon then, shall I?" Melissa grabbed up the sack of coins, and followed after Hagrid, not bothering to wave goodbye to the headmaster.


	4. Chapter 4

**It may not seem like it but the next three chapters have several objects and ideas that will heavily influence the ending of this story. please read carefully.**

**May God have mercy on my soul.**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

About fifteen minutes later both Hagrid and Melissa had been transported via portkey; a mode of transportation Melissa didn't much care for, to an ally outside of a pub Hagrid dubbed 'The Leaky Cauldron'. Melissa was hesitant to go into the pub; she didn't much care to go in to pubs, let alone bars, taverns, saloons or any other place that remotely served alcohol. Both her parents had been alcoholics (until about five years ago when they had found '_the_ _lord'_) and the smell of beer or whiskey, sometimes even red wines brought back unpleasant memories. Hagrid pushed her inside and squeezed through the door afterwards, "blimy! I 'avedn't been 'ere in ages! Welcome to the leaky cauldron 'lissa." She was about to whip around and tell him off for calling her 'lissa' but before she could, he was gone, swallowed up by the other patrons who fluxed in and out of cohesion with the bar getting bottles, glasses, pints and shots.

The smell, as she predicted, made her nose scrunch and her stomach heave up her throat in disgust. But it wasn't just the smell; it was the very attitude of the place that was getting to her. It was the aura of joviality that permeated the air that made her truly nauseous; just the idea of people sitting around slowly killing themselves two or three dollars at a time really did it. Now, being a person who was previously soundly based in the belief that science could explain just about everything (and just about had), she knew that having one or two beers after work a couple times a week was not going to hurt anyone (that bad). But the ones she truly pitied where the ones at the bar, drooling on themselves in their drunken stupor, to inebriated to know that they had pissed their pants or stank from not showering in a week. And she really hated the ones that made their kids walk down the street to the local tavern to see if that was where their parents were at, at three o'clock in the morning, and maybe they could come home, so they could weave their way through traffic the next morning so they could get to school on time? The principal called again today mom, if I don't go to school this week they'll take us to court on the Becka Bill, mom… mom… are you awake mom?

Melissa shook her head to clear the stray memories, bad memories gave bad mojo that people could pick up on; and right now she didn't feel like being asked if she was alright. Melissa glared at the people around her in distain; she spotted a waitress walking over to her, three frothy beers floated in circles around her head, obviously for some other divvy of customers. "Hey-ya sweet heart," Melissa rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, what was it with these people and giving her nicknames? "What'll ya have? Special today on soups, better eat it before it eats you!" the bubbly waitress cracked her gum and laughed until she saw the scathing look on Melissa's face. "I don't want anything… what I do want for you to do is to go find that… uhh-duh…" she snapped her fingers trying to remember, "That ahh… Hagrid? Yeah that's it! That Hagrid fellow and tell him to get his ass in gear! I have _got_ 'ta get outta here." The waitress looked affronted by her behavior and raked her eyes up and down, sizing Melissa up. She left in a huff after returning the nasty look the new witch had given her, mumbling something beneath her breath; the beer sloshing back and forth around her head as she stalked away.

After the annoying waitress had left, Melissa went back to watching the patrons of the pub mingle with each other. Someone was having some sort of party off in a far corner, they had clinked their drinks in about four toasts in the five minutes she had been there and it didn't look like they were going to stop soon. Another man sat closer to her, his hand securely fastened around a crystal glass in which he nursed a gin and tonic. He sighed quite often and gave the aura of misery which could only be quashed, in his opinion, with an excess of liquor and a place where he was utterly alone yet still surrounded by people.

A large hand on her shoulder startled her out of her repose, "ahh, don't even give a guy enough time for a drink will ya?" she glared up at him, "no time for a drink, you're on the clock and besides it kills your liver and makes you fat. Lets get out of here; the smell is making me nauseous." Hagrid laughed as they slowly made their way through the crowd and out into Diagon ally.

Melissa's first thought when walking through the arch into Diagon ally was of the most famous market in the northwest; pike place market. People walked in every direction, hawkers shouted over the crowds 'mine's the best, come see me!' children screamed in delight or howled in rage, animals bleated hooted or whinnied, and everyone had someplace to go. It was a delight, and Melissa loved it as she pushed her way though the crowds. Every time she turned her head there was something new to look at; a clothes store no, a book shop no, a… a broom shop? She shook her head at that a kept on walking; only slowing to stare at a man who was yelling at a woman who had knocked over the table of flowers he was hawking. The woman apologized profusely, and Melissa watched in shock as she waved a wand and the whole mess was sitting properly on the fixed table as if nothing was ever the matter in three seconds. The man, to Melissa's surprise, was still fuming about the whole ordeal when the woman left after buying a bouquet and over paying for them for the mans inconvenience. She didn't quite understand what he was so upset about, but she supposed it must have been the principle of the situation.

Walking on after that and saw several restaurants and a pet shop. Unbeknownst to her at that time, Hagrid had already lost her again amongst the crowds of people and was searching every storefront window to see if she had gone inside anywhere. Melissa peered into the window of the pet shop and spied cats, lizards, snakes, owls, and toads that hopped merrily right in front of her. She studied the toads for awhile, having always had a fondness for things with green skin and could live on land or water, including toads, frogs, and newts. Smiling, Melissa tapped on the glass and watched in surprise as several toads hopped over and sat in a semicircle staring at her. She blinked several times then stood from her bent position, "odd…" then carried on her way, Hagrid still several shops behind.

Melissa walked farther down the ally as she studied the shops around her and the people who ran in and out of said shops. To say that she was a people watcher was an understatement; some people watched whales, some people watched birds, Melissa watched people. And what she noticed when she watched these people was that directly in front of her was an influx of people milling about huge white marble building that looked like and abstract artist had tried (and failed) to create a building with neo classical roman architecture. She wondered how it was even standing considering the columns were at a degree that was hardly considered functional. Then she remembered that, yes, she was a witch, and yes, it was probably held up with some sort of very strong magic.

She decided that that was the best explanation she could come up with until she thought of a better one and headed off to the left road of the two that split from Diagon ally in front of the white building. Several yards down the road, Melissa looked up and read, "Knockturn Ally" on a old wooden sign that was suspended over the ally by an iron arch way. Melissa couldn't place why, but the sign gave her the creeps. It was childish, she new, like being scared when a gate creaks on a busted fence but she couldn't help herself. Shoving her hands deep into her pants pockets, she ventured farther down the street and from under the sign.

Melissa didn't know where she had wandered into, but she suddenly had the idea that Knockturn Ally was directed towards the darker sorts of magic. After an old woman had all but accosted her, asking repeatedly if she wanted a set of 'real human nails dearest? Freshly yanked from the hands that grew them!' Melissa was appalled and moved away from the woman immediately, waving her own perfectly trimmed nails. "Sorry lady, I got a set already." Still she didn't give up, "common kid, I know you wants some. Just one set. It's all the rage." She kept bugging her until Melissa started to get pissed and turned on her suddenly, surprising the old woman. "Look lady, I don't want your nasty ass nails! Get the hint and get the hell out of here!" Melissa pointed down the street the way she had come as the lady glared and slunk away. "A curse on your children and your children's children." She hissed. Melissa just waved her off; there was no way that was a real curse.

Still, Melissa explored the ally, carefully dodging people that sped down the street with their nondescript bags of purchases and dark hoods over their faces. She passed several book shops, a couple antique shops and one store that proudly proclaimed that it was the 'finest provider of dark objects in known London.' That was that, she was going back to Diagon ally where people didn't have iron maidens hanging in windows and or let everyone know they had dark object for sale. That and the creepy witch with the human nails was enough for Melissa, she had to find that guy and get back on familiar ground.

Turning on the spot from the window of the dark object shop she was about to take off when she heard someone whistle. Turning around she didn't see anything until a gloved had snaked out from between two buildings and waved her over. Rolling her eyes Melissa went to see what ever it was that the person wanted. She stopped several feet from the alcove, now on her guard from the old lady and the painted window, she was aware that if she went any closer, the man had the chance to jump out and grab her. The student placed her hand on her hips and looked into the shadows. Squinting her eyes, she could barely make out an attractive man in his late twenties; she placed him at around twenty-eight no more then thirty. He was very pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in years, and his hair was a canary yellow that reached down his back. He wore expensive looking clothes, but Melissa didn't know much about wizard clothes, they could've been the bottom of the barrel for all she knew.

The man smiled at her as he leaned against a brick wall, "Ah… so there you are. I've been told of your coming." She raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, by who? That old witch bitch down the street?" He tipped back his head and laughed, his body shaking with the effort. Melissa noticed he had abnormally long eye teeth. "Oh no, little witch. Someone much higher on the food chain then that little morsel." She couldn't help herself, her curiosity was peaked. "Severus?" she asked, "Dumbledore?" the man only smiled a closed lipped smile, "that is for me to know, little witch, and for you not to know." She was getting pissed again.

"Alright! Who the hell are you anyway? I don't even know you from Adam, and you're telling me someone told you I was going to be here," she waved her hands in agitation, "I didn't even know I was going to be here till I walked down that road ten minutes ago." He shook his head and stood from the wall, "I can't tell you who sent me, but I can tell you my name. My name is Yevon," he said, touching his chest. "I'm a local jeweler."

"That's real fucking nice, what's that got ta do with me?"

"You sure do have a nice mouth on you." She glared, "it'll only get worse if you don't tell me what you want."

Reaching inside his robes, he pulled out two necklaces with large oval lockets on them. They looked exactly alike, down to the smallest details in the engravings, except one was gold and the other silver. "I would like you to have these, little witch. They hold no evil spells, nor will it try to kill you or strangle you when you ware them." Melissa looked at him warily as he said that. As if that was going to make her take his damn trinkets. "Look, uh Yevon, I can't pay for these I don't got any money." That usually threw them off, she didn't know why she wasn't just walking away, she just… didn't want to. "That's alright little witch, I don't want your money. Just having you take these gifts would be payment enough."

Melissa considered it for a moment. Maybe if he… yes, but… "Fine." She sighed as her eyes rolled in her head. Smiling once again, his gloved hand extended from the shadows, dangling the necklaces between two fingers he let them slip into her hands. "These lockets are very special," he warned, "keep one for yourself and give the other to someone you care for deeply. They shall always lead you back together." She stared at the beautiful jewelry in her hands, "what's that supposed to mean?" she asked looking up, but the man had already gone.

Cursing her luck, Melissa shoved the two necklaces into her sweater pocket, and jumped as a huge hand came down on her shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"Holy shit!" she cursed as she jumped half way out of her shoes. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry 'lissa! Got worried sick, couldn't find ya eny'were. Ye took off inter da crowd ans I couldn't see ya eny'were, tried hollerin', and looken' in shops an' everythin'. What're ya doin' down 'ere any way?" Melissa took a moment to decipher his cockney accent before answering. "I hadn't a clue all this stuff was down here. I just wanted to look." She had enough common scene to look ashamed, "I won't go wondering any more. I swear, scouts honor." Hagrid only pushed her in the direction she had come. "No use swearin' on yer honor. A promise will do." She grinned up at the huge man, grateful for his presence for the first time. "I promise."

They walked out of Knockturn Ally quickly, not even running into the nail lady as they crossed under the arch, and finding themselves back Diagon Ally. Melissa gave a sigh of relief as she spotted the odd white building again, and was surprised to find herself being ushered in that direction. "Now where are we going?" she asked, as Hagrid pointed up the stairs in front of a set of double doors. "The headmaster said you got to give somefin' to the goblins at Gringotts bank so 'ere we are."

The new witch was shaken, "are you trying to tell me this place is a _bank_!" she asked almost floored. "Yep, no other safer place, sides Hogwarts." Melissa just shook her head as two small green men that she had not seen before stepped in front of her and grabbed the door handles. She was glad Hagrid was with her because she almost screamed at the sight of them. Two goblins appearing out of nowhere was not something she had been prepared for, nor was she prepared for the prospect of goblins being real in the first place. She whimpered as Hagrid placed a hand on her back and pushed her past the doors and into the opulent bank.

Everything was so rich around her that Melissa's mind refused to take it all in. All she could see was the rich, smooth, reflective flooring and the real gold gilded counters she was being led towards. Hagrid gave her one final shove and she was standing in front of a very mean looking goblin, Melissa gulped. The goblin repositioned his glasses and regarded the witch in front of him. "What can I help you with?" He drawled out as he picked up a quill and marked a sheet of paper. "I – I… uh." Not looking up the gobbling marked several more things on his sheet before transferring it to another pile and starting on the one below it. "I don't have all day ma'am…" he said, sounding very much like Ben Stine to Melissa.

"I – I was told to ga- give this sheet," she said holding out the scroll the headmaster had given her, "To the head goblin on shift." Still not looking up, he moved one of his hands under the counter and pressed a button, then waved his other hand towards a door to their left. "Go stand over there please; he should be out in a moment." Melissa was sorely unimpressed by the service of the goblins so far, and hoped that the 'head goblin' was much more cordial.

A moment, Melissa figured, in goblin must be about five or six minutes in human because that was exactly how long it took the head goblin to extract himself from his office. He looked them over, as if he was deciding on what cut of beef was the best. "I'm head goblin here," he said, "My name is Hammer Toe, how may I help you?"

'Hammer time! dun na na na!'

Melissa smiled and shook her head, clearing the song from her mind. Now was the time for business, not play. "Headmaster Dumbledore told me to give this too you. Don't ask me what it is, I don't have a clue." He looked at Hagrid who only shrugged. Taking the scroll from her hand, he unfurled it and started reading. Several minutes later, Hammer Toe lowered the paper and revealed his face. He was positively furious. "So, it's you then is it. I should have known." He was glaring at Melissa as if she had written the 'N' word all over her face, then said bad things about his mother. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was standing behind her. Nothing.

Finally it got to her, "should have know what? What'd I do?"

"Nothing, come with me please." And he stalked off across the building, the pair following close not wanting to be left behind. They pursued him down several turning corridors of look-alike doors until they stopped at an office with the name Aldrich Brighton printed in silver letters across the privacy glass imbedded in the wood. Hammer Toe knocked harshly on the door, causing it to rattle in its frame. "Aldrich, get out here Aldrich! Someone needs to talk to you! Wake up in there you lazy lout!" Melissa still couldn't figure out what she had done to piss this guy off so much.

The door was thrown open and a man about sixty years old with salt and pepper hair was gripping the door handle and squinting at Hammer Toe. "Can I help you, Mr. Toe?" he asked, a sickeningly sweet tone to his voice. "Here," he said throwing the scroll in Brighton's face, "these two are your problem now." And stalked away. Collecting the scroll from his face, he leaned out the door and watched as his boss walked down the hall and out of sight. Sighing in relief, Aldrich waved Melissa and Hagrid into his office, and began reading the paper. About half way through, he was laughing hysterically, his face red. Melissa just stared at him, her eyebrows in her hair line.

He slapped the sheet down on his desk, and grinned at her, an evil conspiring look to his face. "So," he said still grinning, "you're the next Serus Flos in the Bryer line are you."

"Who?" the name struck a cord with her, it sounded familiar but she just couldn't place it. "The Bryer family, old wizard line from France. It was said that they had the last known Serus Flos in it about five or six hundred years ago." The man stood from his chair on the other side of an expensive looking desk and began flipping through a series of files in a cabinet. Grunting in triumph a moment later, he pulled out a rather thick file and let it drop on the desk's blotter.

"Now, Miss Agar…"

"Melissa, Please. Miss Agar make me feel so… _old_."

He smiled, "very well then, Miss Melissa. If Hammer Toe didn't tell you, which by the look on your face he did not, I am an estate handler." From the file he pulled out a _long _paper that looked like it had been folded in on it self about ten times. Unfolding it, he let it drape over the desk and fall onto the floor on the other side by Melissa's shoes. "Now Miss Melissa," he said, pulling the waylay sheet back onto the desk, "this is a descendants chart so you can see who begot whom. Starting at the bottom, you can see here that this is George Bryer, the last Serous Flos… before you that is." He added in a hurry.

Melissa nodded and listened to him babble on as he pointed to name after name, said who was famous for what, and so on and so forth. She only started listening when his finger passed over a name with a small crown over it. "What's that mean?" she asked pointing to the name. "Ah, good eye Miss Melissa. That means this person was descended from royalty." She was gob smacked. "My – my mother always said that our family was descended from royalty, but I never believed her. I thought she was just yanking my chain!"

"No yanking of chains here Miss Melissa, you are a direct descendant of English royalty. But don't get your hopes up, there would have to be a mass genocide of the royal family for you to become queen." Melissa nose scrunched up, even the thought of ruling over people like that made her sick and her principles act up. "I wouldn't take the job even if they offered. I'm not much of a leader, I'm a follower." Hagrid chuckled behind her, "I don't know 'bout that…" he mumbled. "Quiet in the peanut gallery." This only made him laugh harder.

Few minutes later they had finally gotten to the end of the paper and to the main point Aldrich was trying to make. He pointed to her name then to her mothers name. "You're descended from George Bryer…"

'Sha-ORGE,' the small voice in her head ground out, as if it were grinding his teeth. Melissa shook her head trying to dislodge the sound. "Please," she interrupted, "when you say his name, will you pronounce it S-h-a – orge." He raised an eyebrow, "from _Sha-_orge Bryer then," she sighed as the niggling in the back of her head went away. "But because his child was a squib, and he married a muggle, who also had a non magical child, your family quickly went from long standing pureblood with good credit and reputation, to normal muggle family in about five generations. I _believe_ you got your magic from your mother side."

Melissa tipped back her head and let out a loud bark of laughter. "Oh God! Don't let her hear you say that! She's so into God and going to church that even just looking for constellations is something satanic! If she new her ancestor was a wizard, oh man, her head would become an ICBM!" she held her stomach as it rolled with laughter. Hagrid looked at the man behind the desk and frowned, "what's an ICBM?" He whispered. Aldrich only shrugged.

Minutes later Melissa had calmed down enough for the meeting to continue. "Anyhow, Mr. Bryer lived in Paris for half his life doing something with music, ether making instruments or playing them for a living; I couldn't find that piece of information. Then after the death of his family by some sort of illness, he packed up his things and moved to London. Now what is the first thing you do after moving?"

"Get an apartment?"

"After that…"

"Get a job?"

"No, _after_ that…"

"Get a bank account?"

"_Exactly_. Now before Mr. Bryer had moved to London, in this very bank a person who drew up contracts for savings accounts had been told to make a promotional contract for the 200th person who opened an account in that month. It just so happens that that man found out he was going to be fired as soon as he drew up that contract, so he decided to jerk the goblins around for all he was worth. So instead of writing a loophole free contract, like he was trained to do, he added the mother of all loop holes.

"Mr. Bryer came in a few hours after the man had finished the contract and low and behold, your ancestor was the 200th person to open an account that month. He opened the account and was about to leave when the contractor walked up to him and asked how old he was. Mr. Bryer, in surprise, responded he was fifty-six years old. Then the man told him he had put a loop hole in the contract that said anyone over fifty-five years old doesn't get the normal two percent for a year that the goblins were telling people about, but a whopping ten percent!"

Melissa almost fell out of her seat, Hagrid's eye rolled back in his head for a moment. "ta-ten percent!" she screamed. "Holy shit!" Aldrich gave her that conspiring grin again. "And that's not all. The hole also said that if over fifty-five, along with the ten percent it will never become void on the account as long as the line lives. And the key will pass to the oldest child in the line with magic in their blood." Melissa gulped, "so as long as I'm alive and have kids or don't close the account, nobody can lower the interest percent?" he nodded.

"Melissa Agar, you are a very rich woman. When he died Mr. Bryer left in the vault over five thousand gallons, with ten percent interest on that over about six hundred years… well, you do the math." Melissa could feel her hands shaking as she slipped them under her butt to keep them still. Hagrid slapped her on her back, almost sending her sprawling. "Good on ya 'lissa! Dead family doin' rig' by ya I see! Har-har-har!"

He pulled out a photo from the file and handed it to her, "along with the money, you've just inherited a rather old, but rather grand manor. As far as I know, nobody's lived in it for about a hundred years. I'm not even sure if it has running water or a well…" he shivered as Melissa gazed dumfounded at the picture. "I sure wouldn't like to see all the dark critters running around in a place like that. Probably a hundred different Bogart's hiding in all sorts of places."

The house, hell _mansion_, Melissa was looking at was huge. Three stories high with ivy covering half the left side. She could tell it was in a ramshackle condition, but with all the money she just got she could just tear the thing down and start over… not that she was going to. She always had a dream of refurbishing an old abandoned house. She could also brag to her best friend that she owned a haunted house on the hill.

The rest of the time was spent signing papers to transfer the account and land deeds into her name and several other sheafs of paper Melissa couldn't figure out what they were for. Then suddenly Aldrich opened his top drawer, took out a heavy looking key, walked over to an inlayed safe to the right of his desk, and shoved the key into a lock. The safe popped open and he grabbed a set of three keys on a copper colored ring. Handing them to her on the tip of his finger, he grinned, "be careful with these," he said. "The goblins hate the fact that your ten percent accounts are legally binding. They'll try to trick you into closing them and starting another, don't do it! Normally you can be issued another key if you lose yours or if it was stolen, but not these, they refuse to make more. So for Merlin's sake don't lose them!" Melissa grabbed the keys and shoved them into her pocket with the necklaces. "Don't worry, there's two things I don't lose. Keys and money."

"Oh," Hagrid said as they were ushered out of Aldrich's office and down the corridor where they had come, "how's that?"

"Well, I'm not about to be locked out of my house or car, so I always have my keys on me, and I grew up dirt poor so money is a sacred object. I don't think I've ever lost any more then a few dimes." Hagrid looked at the man again in confusion. "Muggle money…" he shrugged. They walked out into the entrance hall, behind the counters, through an arched door and suddenly they were in a rather large cave with tracks and tracks of mining cars. Melissa looked at Aldrich as he screamed for someone. "Griphook! Griphook get out here!"

A smallish goblin that was just about as tall as Melissa's nephew came running out of an alcove in the wall, a bottle of wine in his right hand. "What does Aldrich want now?" he asked, his speech slightly slurred. "We need to go to vault…" he leaned down and whispered in Melissa's ear, "what numbers are on the keys?" she pulled them out and read, "Four fifty-seven, four fifty-eight, and four fifty-nine."

"We want to go to vault four hundred fifty-seven, Griphook." The goblin traced his eyes back and forth over the trio. "Can't take all yous, carts not big enough." Aldrich growled, "God damn it Griphook, stop being such a lazy arse and _go get a bigger one_!" the goblin jumped in surprise, dropping his bottle and scuttled off down the tracks. Thirty seconds later a cart double the size of the ones on the tracks already coasted up to them. "All aboard for vault four hundred fifty-seven!" she wasn't to sure about having a drunk goblin driving for them, and whispered something to that effect into the estate manager's ear. "Don't worry," he whispered back, pushing her into the cart, "goblins have to drink five bottles of regular wine before they get drunk."

"Yeah, but how many did he have before that one?" the man frowned in thought. Melissa stood by the goblin as Hagrid took a seat next to Aldrich on the only bench as they started forward. They coasted awhile, but Melissa's heart started thumping as soon as she saw the tracks drop off into a pit of nothingness. She screamed as they went over the edge and picked up speed as the cart sailed around corners and down more hills until they were about two hundred meters under ground.

The cart stopped with a jerk in front of vault 457, letting three green passengers off and one goblin. Melissa and Hagrid took a few moments to settle their stomachs as Aldrich straightened his clothes. "Oh man," she whined, rubbing her stomach, "I _hate _roller coasters." Griphook just stood impatiently tapping his foot, as the humans took their time. He was egger to get back to his drinks Melissa could tell. Having both parents be alcoholics most of her life, she could easily tell the winos from the drunkards from the booze hounds. This guy was a wino. Definitely.

"Key please." He snapped holding out his hand with the two inch nails. She looked at Aldrich for a moment and when she saw him nod, she placed the key ring into his hand. His face hardened even more when he saw the three key together. "Oh, so its _you_." He simpered. "_yeah_, _its me_," she glared right back this time, not giving a fuck what he thought of her for what some disgruntled employee did six hundred years ago. Griphook grunted in agitation as he turned to the vault door, shoved the key in the lock, and made some shaky hand movement before the door open with a creak.

If Hagrid hadn't have been standing behind her to catch her, Melissa would have fainted dead away and fallen down into the deep nothingness behind her. Hagrid held out his huge hands and steadied her as she stared at the solid wall of gold coins behind the door. All she could think about was the pictures she had seen of the inside of Fort Knox. Aldrich only smiled a sad little smile as Melissa covered her mouth in shock. "I told you Miss Melissa, you're a very, _very_ rich woman." She couldn't speak; it was just too much to think about. "T – The next one!" she squeaked.

Griphook rolled his eyes and opened the next vault, only to see the same as the first. There's no way, she thought, that there's this much money! Not in the third one at least. "Close those two," she ordered, turning her head away from and waving her hand at, the excess of money, "open the last one." Grinding his teeth, Griphook opened the last vault and Melissa sighed. Finally, a normal amount of money was produced from behind the vault door, numbered 459.

Near the back of the vault, there was a large pile of gold pieces, sliver, and copper pieces. Gripping the wall, Melissa kneeled her girth to the floor as she picked up a stack of galleons, aware of the other two people watching her. She smiled back at them, as she began to stand already out of breath. Kneeling at her size was difficult for Melissa, it put a God awful strain on her back, hurt her knees and the pressure from her stomach being shoved into her chest caused her to lose her breath quite fast. Hagrid offered her his hand and helped her stand, "thanks. That- that's _a lot _of money." She said addressing Aldrich. "Its all yours now, do what you want with it." She grinned evilly. "Thanks. I think I will," and began shoving stacks of galleon into the sack Dumbledore had given her. She figured he had given her enough to get anything she would need for school, but she was an impulse buyer that loved to shop for her, and others. She was planning on taking full advantage of that as they rode the cart to the surface, Melissa another two hundred galleons richer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning very very long chapter!**

**CHAPTER SIX**

The Serus Flos shielded her face from the sun as both she and Hagrid strode out of Gringotts bank. Melissa was still amazed that her luck had been so good that day. A new place to live, in EUROPE none the less. Over three million galleons in the bank (to her in head calculations), only God knew how much that was in dollars, and she had learned she was descended from some sort of royalty. How cool was that? And now the cold air that had drifted up and down the ally since she gotten there had been burned away by the sun that was blaring down on them now.

Hagrid smiled down on her as they walked to the bottom of the steps. "Well, looks like it's gonna be a sunny day finally." She smirked up at him, "for now any way." She didn't want to burst his bubble, but she had grown up in Seattle, one of the rainiest metropolis' in the United States and had learned to read the weather a long time ago. What was the sky telling her now? 'Beware… rain, and lots of it.' She pulled her sweater closer to her body and started down the ally.

She stopped suddenly, her face flashing panic as she turned to Hagrid. "I really hope that you know what I'm supposed to buy, cuz I sure as hell don't; I just realized nobody gave me a list." An expression Melissa couldn't place flashed across his face as he began shoving his hand into every pocket on his oddly furred coat before presenting her with a parchment envelope with the Hogwarts crest stamped into the sealing wax. "For me? You shouldn't have." she quipped, sliding a finger under the wax and opening the letter inside. "From Dumbledore. Tol' me ta give it to ya, when he axed me to come wid ya."

Melissa read the letter as Hagrid talked, hearing him, but not really listening. "Congratulations," she read, "You've been accepted to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and Wizardry! Blah, blah, blah…" she wondered silently to herself, exactly how many of these she had gotten. She knew there were four acceptance letters framed on her living room wall. All from very prestigious universities on the east coast. She hadn't even sent in applications, they just wanted her to go to there schools so they could brag. She turned them all down. Now this… finding an acceptance letter from a witching school in her hand… and having said yes, that was just a little surreal.

Skimming over the letter, she spotted a short sentence at the very bottom. "You will need the following supply's…" she turned to the second page and grinned. "Just what I needed," she mumbled as her eyes scanned the page. Melissa read it once, twice; three times before she folded the paper back in on itself, placed it back in the envelope and handed it to Hagrid. His face scrunched with a confused look, his great beard hiding most of it from view. "Don't you need the lis…"

Melissa shook her head. "No, I've read it already," she looked up at him, her eyes squinting against the sun. "Don't need it once I read it once." He still stared at her, the same confused grimace on his face. "Look," she sighed as she retrieved her sunglasses and placed them on her face, "I don't need the paper because I'm eidetic."

"A wha'?"

"A photographic memory."

She wasn't lying. Ever since she had been a child, she had been able to recall, at will, anything she had ever read… perfectly, as if she were reading straight from the book itself. No one believed her. Every teacher she had ever had, had thought: daughter of two drunks? There was no way; she had to be cheating to get good grades. It wasn't her fault that she had a God given gift.

A gift and a curse. She could also do two other things that had the propensity to get her into trouble. She could recall, word for word, up to a year later any thing that she heard. Conversations, arguments (mostly by her parents), lectures (her teachers got pissed at that too for some reason), and flawlessly recite music. She had already been used on stand at several trials, as a witness to crimes she had either seen or heard someone planning. Melissa's least favorite 'talent' was the ability to recall extraordinary long strings of equations or numbers. This was the only reason Melissa had gotten through math class. Because of the ability to recall things on will, she could add, subtract, multiply, divide, do multiple powers there off, in her head. The woman stayed far away from the written form of pie; she feared it might get stuck in her brain and she might go mad reciting it to herself. This ability had impressed her freshman year math teacher, who transferred her out of his algebra class and into trigonometry, a senior class. They offered her the ability to skip two years of high school; she declined.

So here she was, in a magical ally surrounded by witches and wizards of all types and a half giant by her side. Life had a way of coming full circle. "Well, were to next?" she asked, wrapping her had in the course fur of his jacket so she wouldn't get lost in the crowd again. "I think we ought to get yer self a trunk, don't ya think so?" she nodded as he began walking down the street, hand wrapped in coat fur dragging her along with him.

Several yards down the street, they approached a shop properly called, 'The Trunk Shop'. Creative name, she thought. As she pushed open the door, a small chime went off in some unseen place above her head. Hagrid entered behind her, his huge frame almost not able to fit through the normal sized door. Melissa's eye was immediately drawn towards a black leather trunk with a green stone set in the top that shone brightly in the low light of the shop. As she studied the chest, she could hear a rather light footed man approach behind her. He obviously thought he was sneaking up on her or something.

"Well good morning!" he hollered over her bent back after standing there for several moments, thinking she had no idea he was there. Melissa just stood slowly and turned to him, her eyes blinking at his manners. "I see you have a good eye for merchandise, ma'am! Genuine Italian leather there! Fingerprint activated!" he pressed his finger to the stone and Melissa watched as the lid popped up. He sputtered on for awhile, like any good used car salesmen would before Melissa put a stop to it. "Hey, hey, hey! Will you slow down for a second, guy? Damn!" His eyes hardened as he listened to Melissa's American accent.

"Oh, an American are ya. Figures." He turned his back to her in disgust. Hagrid was upon him before Melissa was, his fists clenching. "Oy! What's that supposed to mean, eh?" the clerk snorted. "American tourists are always coming in here, but they never buy anything. It's always, 'sorry just looking, just looking, just looking.'" He simpered in a horrible parody of Melissa's countrymen's accent. Hagrid grabbed the front of his robes and lifted him off the ground. "Well guess wot, this ain't any American. She's a Hogwarts student and…" he leaned in close to the mans ear and whispered, "the Serus Flos."

The clerks demeanor changed immediately and as soon as Hagrid let his feet touch the ground, he bowed at the waist. "Please forgive me! I'm a stupid, ignorant child for not seeing you were the Serus Flos! I'm so ashamed!" he covered his face as tears began spilling, but still did not straighten up. She could feel sorry for the ass. If she owned a shop and hoards of British tourists were always coming in and never buying anything she'd be cheesed too. Suddenly forgiving him, she felt an odd tingle in her right hand, and an odd urge to touch his head. Shrugging at herself, she walked over to him and placed her right hand on the back of his head. "Common guy," she murmured, "get up. You're making an ass out of yourself." The tingle left.

The man smiled as he pulled himself up, his hands wiping the rest of his tears from his eyes. "Thank you. I'm sorry I was such a wanker, pulling the old used trunk salesmen trick. But now I know who you are! So what can I help you with… _**anything**_ at all, you just say the word." Melissa was slightly concerned by what had happened to the mans personality by just saying she was a Serus Flos. If this was how this guy acted, she could only imagine how other people would react. "well, I really need a trunk for school, for my books and what not…."

Half hour later Hagrid and Melissa walked out of The Trunk Shop dragging a brand new dark navy, monogrammed trunk. It had silver trimming and could be pulled behind her like a travel case. Inside was half again as deep as on the outside, and when you opened the lid two drawers could be lifted out on metal rods. It reminded Melissa of the makeup case her sister had gotten her for Christmas several years ago, that now sat forgotten under her bed at home. Hagrid chucked the trunk under his massive arm as soon as they left the shop, so as it didn't get in the way of on coming people traffic.

Next, they stopped at several stores for only a few minutes each, having only to go to the counter and ask the clerk on staff for the items. Those included one standard size 2 pewter cauldron, a set of ingredient vials, and a stop in at Slug and Jigger's Apothecary. She laughed as soon as she read the name of the apothecary, she knew exactly what a jigger was; most people didn't. she found, much to her displeasure, that that particular shop had the foulest odor she had come across in the natural world. She held her nose with the sleeve of her sweater as she tucked the box of vials under her arm and dodged around barrels and buckets of nasty things she had never even considered existing. Griffin claws, sphinx snot and fur, and mermaid scales were only a few that caught her eye. The man at the register was curt and quick filling her supplies; he had about ten other people behind her that were anxious to be on there way out of the putrid shop. Tucking the vials under her arm again, she dropped the seven sickles into his palm, thanked him and left. But as she did, she heard someone in the back of the line spout, "stupid yanks, holding up the show." She glared but kept walking.

Stepping out side, Melissa replaced the vials in her new trunk, and placed her hand over her stomach as it growled loudly at her. She blushed and grinned self-consciously, Hagrid only laughed. "Guess yer hungry yea?" she nodded as she punched her stomach, trying to make it shut up. "Well," the half-giant said, pulling a pocket watch out of his coat, "it's just about one o'clock. Pass lunch time I'll say."

"Jesus! One o'clock? We were in that bank longer then I thought."

"Bein' in da tunnels will do that to ya."

"No wonder I'm hungry, I haven't really eaten anything since last night." Hagrid plucked the money bag from her sweater pocket, which made Melissa have an uproar, and retrieved two galleons. "I'll tell ya what," he said ignoring her outrage at being man handled. "you go get your robes at Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions, and I'll go get some ice cream from Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor just down there." Melissa, seeing that Madam Malkin's and the ice cream shop were barely across the street from one another, nodded her head. "Alright, I think I can do that without getting lost."

The student entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, only moments later after splitting from Hagrid outside the door and watching him enter the ice cream shop. Another invisible bell jangled above her head as she entered. Looking around, she noticed that the clothes in this shop were very well made, by hand if she wasn't mistaken. Robes of all shapes, sizes, colors and designs littered the walls, were worn by manikins, or hung on racks waiting for someone to take them home. Trialing her trunk, Melissa walked in between several racks of brightly colored robes before she started laughing hysterically. "Oh, oh, oh no they didn't! Not that! Oh really not that!"

Breath was a long time coming as several other customers looked at her out of the corners of their eyes, set down the clothes they were looking at and walked hastily out of the store. Others yet pulled their children close before following the other customers. Melissa hitched a breath as she stared at the cloak that had caused so much drama. Just the fact that someone had taken the time to create it show the ridiculousness of this place. The cloak was almost all white with pink diamonds sewn from the bottom edge to about half way; half diamonds lined the hood all the way around until the collar. Her diaphragm hitched again as she tried to keep from busting up again. She just couldn't believe what she was seeing. The cloak was an almost perfect replica of the one Dagger wore in Final Fantasy Nine. She knew she had to have it.

"wha – what happened to everyone? Where'd everyone go?" Madam Malkin stood in the center of her shop, arms spread wide in disbelief. "I leave for five minutes and everyone goes away, isn't that just grand!"

"Hey," Melissa called, coming out of the shadows, "sorry, it was my fault. It's just that… this cloak, it made me laugh so hard I nearly… well I _nearly_." Madam Malkin's eyes studied the woman before her, her hands on her hips. "And what's so funny about that cloak? I worked very hard on it I'll have you know." Melissa shook her head, "nothing it just reminds me of something from along time ago. Something that I had a lot of fun doing. Hey, tell ya what, for spookin' yer customers, I'll take the cloak and," she screwed up her eyes as her eidetic memory kicked into play, "three sets of plain work robes, one pointed hat, black please, two pair of dragon-hide gloves, one black one blue please, a few new button down shirts, couple new ties and…" Melissa hated this part, "three skirts to go with the uniform."

The tailors eyes had begun to bulge at the realization of what Melissa was asking for, as she had relayed her list. "tha – that's the Hogwarts uniform!" Melissa nodded and told the story of how she was unable to get supplies before school had started because Dumbledore had forgotten to get her the scholarship she was promised or to take her shopping. The older woman just shook her head. "Your headmaster would forget his _own_ head if it wasn't attached to his body."

"That almost exactly what McGonagall said!" Melissa told her as Madam Malkin showed her to a platform. "Yes that sounds like something she would say, now just step up here and hold your arms out like a cross, yes that's it. Now don't move and let the measuring tape do its thing."

Melissa was suddenly attacked by an animate measuring tape that flew around her body measuring places she didn't want to know the circumference of. Upper arms, head, barrel chest, fat ass thighs, the distance from the tip of her nose to her eyebrows, other places … then finally her waist. She scrunched up her eyes and turned from the tape as it tried valiantly to touch ends around her middle. Melissa could feel it trying to touch, the plastic squeezing into her fat rolls as it struggled.

"Don't worry dear; I know exactly how you feel." Madam Malkin jerked the tape from around her waist as she walked by. "It's a good thing you stopped in my shop. All my clothes are made to be durable, you know," she slapped the inside of her dumpy thigh. "Amen to that sister!" Melissa screeched.

Ahh, another one of the silent battles against clothes all obese people suffer, the battle of chafing thighs and holes in the crotch. Melissa figured that skinny people just didn't understand the joy and satisfaction that comes with finding a pair of pants that don't chafe in the thigh, crotch, or ass. But if pants were a battle, then finding flattering shirts was the war. Every shirt that she owned was either too big, too small, too long in the back or front, or too short in the back, or front, or both. Remember, she told herself as Madam Malkin trudged out several different styles of dress shirts for her to try on; shirt is only one letter away from shit.

After several styles, Melissa decided on a simple white (not her best color) shirt that came with a de-wrinkling charm, and self repair if it got ripped. Madam Malkin tried to dissuade her from choosing that shirt several times, "but I didn't mean to pick that one up, that styles for men!" she didn't care though, Melissa shopped in the men's department often enough that the stigma of wearing 'made for men' clothes had worn off long ago. Not that she was some sort of female transvestite. No! Far from it. It was just another battle in the war against clothes. Guy clothes fit better on her because they were made to be roughed up, and be durable. Men's clothes naturally came with the necessary wide shoulders that Melissa had possessed since birth, all girls clothes (even the plus sizes Melissa had seen) had petite shoulders that squeezed the life out of her. Besides, she was a daddy's little girl, and proud of it and as such, loved the designs of guys T-shirts way more then she had ever like the butterflies and unicorns on girl clothes. She had spent every second of her fathers sober moments, out in the woods, camping, fishing, or working on cars with him. She had refused to touch the 'girly stuff' her sister and mother wanted to shove her into as a little girl. Makeup and dresses were not her things… definitely not.

Finally, Madam Malkin relented, "fine! If you want people to stare at you then be my guest!"

"Thank you, I think I will."

"Madam Malkin?" a mousy little girl, no older then Melissa herself tapped the shoulder of the tailor who turned, arms over her chest. "Yes, Alexandra what do you need now?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I've finished with the skirts, but I think you should look at them first…" Malkin sighed as she ushered the girl around the counter and into the backroom.

The student patted her stomach as it growled again. Damn she was hungry! What was taking that guy so long? Just then, as if he had heard her plea, the door opened and Hagrid stuck his head into the shop, his body much too big to fit in himself. Melissa rushed over and bounced eagerly before him. "So, so, what'd ya get me? Huh, huh, huh, huh?" he pushed into the store a double scoop of French Vanilla so rich with cream it was almost yellow. Then in her other hand he deposited several sickles and knuts of change. She stared at it in amazement; he had given her the change from a double scoop, and a whatever he got? How absurd! "Oh shit man," she said handing it back to him, "I don't need this, you keep it. Call it payment for taking me shopping." She teased. Hagrid had no objections and pocketed the change.

"Don't you dare and go an' stick up my shop with that ice cream. Get it on anything and you buy it!" Madam Malkin had appeared behind Melissa as she handed over the change. She knew that the tailor had been coming up behind her, the woman walked like an elephant. Some people just never learned to walk lightly on their feet. In her hand she held a plaid pleated piece of fabric, when, it turned out, was held up properly was supposed to be the skirt to Melissa's uniform. Hagrid put it properly when he said, "bloody hell." Melissa just covered her face, lifting her hand just enough to bite off a chunk of dessert.

The skirt was about two and a half feet wide and when worn only reached the middle of her thigh, her flabby knees showing… that was unacceptable. "This is unacceptable!" she said, after letting Madam Malkin hold her cone long enough for her to change into the skirt. Malkin handed the cone back to her patron, and stuck a finger to her chin trying to figure this predicament out. Suddenly she got an idea. "Go change into your pants and finish your cone. This might take awhile."

Melissa just shrugged, changed, and went to sit outside with Hagrid. For the next twenty minutes, she and Hagrid got to know each other better then the previous hectic day had allowed. They talked about nothing in particular, her life in America, Hogwarts, the students there (along with a warning against Slytherin, which was promptly ignored), the professors, and (Hagrid's favorite topic) magical creatures. She was slightly surprised to find out he was a professor too, his demeanor not seaming conductive to the surrounding minds need to learn. But to each his own, she guessed. They had both finished their ice cream several minutes before Madam Malkin waved Melissa back inside.

"Well good news! I fire called professor Dumbledore and he said that because of your… _unique _physical structure, there will be an exception made and you can were black slacks instead of a skirt, isn't that great!" Melissa clapped her hands together and thanked Buddha, God, Yahweh, Vishnu, or who ever was up there for looking out for her. "Yes that's great! Thank you so much!" Malkin just flapped her hand at Melissa. "Don't worry about it."

Soon Melissa was retrieving her money bag from Hagrid whom she had forgotten to get it back from when he had pilfered the two galleons for ice cream, and was paying Madam Malkin, "…128 galleons and 3 sickles, dear." Along with everything else she had bought, Melissa grabbed a pair of dress shoes because she didn't have any, several heavy faux fur lined cloaks, two Gryffindor scarves, and several pairs of woolen socks, just because she wanted some. Melissa waved goodbye to the much richer woman and walked out, her trunk heavy behind her. She glance up at Hagrid, then back down the ally. "I think I like that lady." She said to Hagrid, as he navigated them to the book shop up-a-ways. He only grunted.

Walking up to the book shop Melissa grinned sardonically. God, the names these people thought up for there stores. Common, Florish and Blotts? Who couldn't find the connection between that and books? And if those were peoples names… wow, what a coincidence. Hagrid took the trunk as Melissa walked inside, squeezing by too thin aisles of written word.

Truthfully, Melissa loved books; she always imagined the afterlife as the library from the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast. When she was smaller, she could imagine herself doing one of two things; owning a book shop, or being a chef. Since she wasn't managerially inclined, she had studied hard to go be the best cook she could be… and she was a _damn good cook_.

Melissa took a few moments to herself and looked through the more informational books, and picked out six she felt she could use in the future. _The Main Five Languages of the Wizarding Populous: By Sun dit. Ouut_; she laughed out loud when she read the authors name. _Animagus: A Beginner's Guide_; Turning into some sort of animal, doesn't that sound fun? _What Does Your Animagus Form Say About You_? Obviously, she need that. _Ancient Runes and the Codes They Make_; she had always been good at breaking codes. _Wand-Less Magic's for the Starting Witch or Wizard_; who didn't need that book? _Serus Flos: What Are They and Who Have They Been_?; this was the last book she found, and oddly enough, for only one Serus Flos every 250 years or so, it was right on the counter, standing as if someone put it there for her to find.

Shrugging, Melissa piled the books next to the register and stared at the clerk until he acknowledged her. He had a pile of blue gum in his mouth that reminded her of the flunkey waitress in The Leaky Cauldron. He cracked his gum and leaned on the counter with one elbow, seemingly bored out of his mind. "yeah, is dat all?" he asked never looking her in the eye or even in her general direction. Glairing she snapped her fingers in his face, "yeah, ok buddy, I'm over here, and no that's not all. I need hella more books." He gave his own glair back, that said 'I can't believe you're making me work for this job.' "fine, what you want?"

"Well, first I'm gonna need; _The standard Book of Spells: By Miranda Goshawk _year one through five. _A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi: By Phyllida Spore_. _A History of Magic: By Bathilda Bagshot_. _Magical Theory: By Adalbert Waffling_. _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration: By Emeric Switch_. _Magical Drafts and Potions: By Arsenius Jigger. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: By Newt Scamander_. _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection: By Trimble…_" She continued listing as the clerk rushed around the shop, his eyes wide with disbelief. Finally, he rang up the total and whistled to himself. "That's a lot of money…" she paid with no complaints, took her towering stack of books out side, and shoved them, with Hagrid's help, into the filling trunk.

Then, suddenly, with no warning a loud explosion rocked the ally. Everyone looked up for a moment, silence permeating the air. Crack! Pop, bang! Melissa was shocked to see fireworks going off in the air, advertising someplace called Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Weasley, she thought, wasn't that the name of the red head she met last night. Hagrid ruffled her hair, causing Melissa to have to replace her pony higher on her head. Grinning, Hagrid looked up at the fading sparks. "Hey, ya should go over the to the three W's and meet the twins, a riot those two are!" Melissa shrugged; it made no difference to her. "Say, I got an idea! You go over there and I'll get yer a surprise." She nodded. "Sure… whatever."

"You just get ter tell me two things. What's yer favorite color?"

"Black."

"What breed of owl you like best?"

She stared quizzically at him for a moment. "Barn owls I guess, I never though about it before." Melissa turned to see Hagrid disappearing into the relaxing crowd. Melissa wasn't sure exactly what about the noise had made every one stop in their tracks like that. But she figured it couldn't be any good for her as she toted her trunk down the ally and into the Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

As soon as Melissa entered the shop, she was assaulted by sight, sound, and smell. Small sparking objects whizzed through the air, causing Melissa to duck before a blue flying sparkler dive bombed her head. Children screamed for their compliant parents to by them something that looked like something they needed, or screamed because their parents wouldn't buy it. The soft smell of smoke entered her nose, along with the odor of large number of people crammed into a small floor space. Signs advertising gags or toys to play jokes on friends lined the walls as Melissa slipped by. Maybe, it would be easiest to ask the clerk on duty about these 'twins' she was supposed to be looking for, she mused passing another screaming child.

The boy on the register was a red head, and had a mass of pleasingly cute freckles all over his cheekbones. He was Melissa's age or a year or so younger then her with a rather wiry frame. He was rather attractive, she thought. The Serus Flos walked up to the short end of the L shaped counter and leaned on it, "hello!" she called grabbing the mans attention as he handed a sack of gags to a kid. She flashed her best smile in his direction, and tried to look lost. "Hello, what can I do for you?" he asked, flashing his own winning smile at her as he waved his wand over another persons purchases. "Oh I'm sorry for bugging you when I know you're so busy. But I uhh… I was told to come in here and find somebody called 'the twins'."

As he took money from the woman he had rung up, his grin faltered for a moment then was back full force. "Oh? And who told you to come in here and look for them?" She grinned; he just had to be one of them. She hoped the other was as attractive as he was. "Hagrid." She responded simply. His eyes widened, "Well, why didn't you say so? George," Melissa's eyes furrowed at the name, "George get out here we have guests!"

"I'm Fred by the way." He said sticking out his hand, the other busy on the register. Melissa took it, not liking the way the skin contact made her flesh crawl as if spiders were scrambling under skin, but endured. Seconds later an almost exact double of the man before her walked out of the back room, his hands scrubbing against a filthy towel. "What's going on Fred? I was almo… well hello there!"

The one called George was covered in grease from head to toe. A long smear ran down his nose and the lift side of his face was smeared with the black goop from his neck up his left cheek, and his hair plastered to the side of his head like a can of unrefined pomade, the right side of his body wasn't much better. She didn't have a clue what he could've been working on to make him look in such a state, but it was ok with Melissa, she still thought both were horribly attractive. She had always had a special place in her heart for the grubby man. A man was supposed to be slightly dirty; it made them look like they actually did something for a living. A man with pretty hands was no man at all.

Melissa was hard pressed not to talk to these two beautiful expressions of the human form. And that was exactly what she did. That is until she had to asked the question that had been bugging her since she had seen the fireworks in the sky. "You two are the Weasley of Weasley Wheezes right?"

"Darn right"

"You guys wouldn't be related to Ron Weasley, would you?"

The two brothers mirrored their grins on one another before Fred answered, "what's our ikle ronikins got himself into now?" she rolled her eyes, very familiar with where she knew the twins would go if she didn't stop them now. "Nothing, I just met him last night… and the name didn't sound very common so…" she shrugged.

"So you're a friend of friend of Ronnie's, eh?"

"Bout time he got more friends then just Harry, and Hermione."

"Not that there's anything wrong with them mind."

Melissa just shook her head, listening to them blather on about their brother. She obviously hit a sore spot with these people. Very prideful of there family. She couldn't blame them, if there was anything to warrant being prideful about her family, beside her niece and nephew, she probably wouldn't every shut up either.

Suddenly George bent back and screamed into the backroom once more. "Sandra! Sandra, come out here for a second!" a blond boy about sixteen came scurrying out of the door, and glanced at George. "Yes Fred?" he asked as the shop owner sighed, "Sandra, I'm George." The boy snapped his fingers. Melissa raised her eyebrows, "your name is Sandra?" she asked incredulously. "Yeah, my parents thought I was gonna be a girl. Got a problem with that?" she shook her head vigorously.

"Sandra, go get a gift bag for our new friend here. Only the best products mind you, and give her a few of snack boxes," he winked at her, making Melissa blush. "You'll like the skiving snack boxes. Guarantied to get you outta class every time." She let a warm smile pass over her face, "oh, common now guys," she said even as Sandra passed by her with a sack that had three W's embroidered on the side. "You don't have to, really."

Fred just shook his head. "No we do, any friend of one Weasley is a friend to all Weasley's…" Melissa just bowed her head. She had just met this dude last night! And their family was treating her like one of their own? This was insane and was getting more bizarre by the second.

Suddenly remembering something McGonagall had told her long ago that summer, she turned to the twins. "Sandra, he's a squib isn't he?" they both nodded sadly, not saying anything as said boy walked up behind her. "Here," he shoved the gift bag into her chest and stomped back in to the depths of the stock room. She blinked, "what was that about," they both shrugged. "It's his way."

" 'lissa, 'lissa you in dare?" she smiled as she stored the gift bag in her trunk and looked towards the door. She said goodbye to the twins, promising to she them again, and retreated out of the shop.

A loud squawk awaited her as she stepped out of the way of the influx of patrons to the Weasley's shop, and gasped as she took in the beautiful bird's cage Hagrid was holding up. He was a barn owl, Melissa noted, but not any she had ever seen before. Barn owls were always tan or lighter colors, never… never _black_. From head to tail feather the bird before her was blacker then the deadest, calmest, winter night. It sat silent, the first out burst as a greeting, but no sound after that.

"Oh, oh Hagrid," Melissa gasped, taking the cage from him, "she's…"

"He's!"

"He's beautiful!"

"The lady at Eeylops said he came in a few days ago, been a real bugger till today. Guess he was waitin' fer ya ta come get em, eh? So what ya gonna name im?"

Staring into the animal's eyes Melissa was shocked when she knew, _just knew_ what she was going to name him, as if the owl himself had put the idea in her head. "Cerberus." She said finally. Hagrid obviously didn't approve from the look on his face but said nothing against her.

Melissa yawned as she passed the trunk to Hagrid to tote as she carried the cage. "I'm tired, let's get my wand and get outta here. The man couldn't agree more, so when she walked inside Olivanders (wands since 382 BC, she scoffed at that), leaving her owl outside with Hagrid, and a man with hair like Albert Einstein approached her, she wasn't hardly fazed.

"Ahh! Miss agar… I was wondering when you'd show up! Rather late might I add?" she made excuses about Dumbledore once again. "no, no, no…" he bleated as another tape measurer attacked every spot on her body, only a little less intrusively then Madam Malkin's. "I meant seven years too late." She was shocked, how dare he blame her for something that she had no control over. "Hey, don't blame me because I'm a Serus Flos, I had no choice in the matter.

Olivander stared over his shoulder at her then scuttled down the latter he was on. "Serus Flos you say? I haven't had one of those in about…" he thought for a moment as he pulled countless long skinny boxes out of place along the walls and shelves, "about five or six hundred years. Maple, if I remember correctly, whippy, unicorn hair center, good for conducting and charms. Rather odd man."

'You can say that again.' The voice agreed. Melissa chuckled at herself as Olivander shuffled out from behind a shelf and produced a wand for her to try. "Here you are miss agar, Unicorn Hair, Willow, 10 inches!" he handed it over to her almost lovingly, and before she could close her hand around it, it was ripped away from her. Before she could even protest he was handing her another, "Dragon Heartstring; Ash; 7 inches!" he proclaimed, before repeating his actions from the time before, and returning. "Unicorn Hair, Mahogany; 9 inches!" nothing happened and the wand disappeared again, she could feel her temper rising. Shoving her left hand into her pants pocket, she wrapped her hand around the small vial she found there and counted to ten. Olivander was back once more, "try this, Unicorn Hair; Yew; 9 inches."

"And this, Phoenix Feather; maple; 7 ½ inches!"

"Perhaps this, Phoenix Feather, Redwood, 13 inches…"

Finally after about five more wands Olivander stood motionless, his hands set together. Then, to Melissa, it seamed an idea struck very suddenly and his eyes gleamed at her. "I know you now Miss Agar, I know exactly what _you _need." She raised an eyebrow at that and flowed him with her eyes as he climbed the ladder once more, not quite as high, and returned with a red box with fading stickers on the end. Olivander lifted off the top and revealed an ornately carved wand that Melissa immediately felt attached to. "here you are Miss Agar, Dragon Heartstring, Cedar, 13 3/4 inches, one of my best made. Have a go, wave it around."

As soon as she picked the wand up from its velvet lined bed, Melissa could feel a surge shoot down her arm and out the tip of the wand and was suddenly amazed at what was happening. Purple, red, green, yellow, orange, blue, white, and every other color Melissa knew shot from the tip of the wand and fell on the floor. The muscles in her hand spasmed around the wooden stick and cramped as her raw power tapped an outlet for the first time. Then suddenly, it was gone as soon as had come. "What the _fuck_ just happened!" she asked her face slack with shock. Olivander just stared at her cryptically, and asked for his payment. She pay as asked and walked out of the shop 30 seconds later her wand tucked away in its box and shoved under her arm.

She grimaced as several drops of rain fell on her head. Melissa tugged up her hood and stashed her sunglasses as she asked, "can we go back to Hogwarts now?" a slight pleading to her tone. She was tired, hungry, and her feet hurt from being on them for hours. She needed a rest. Hagrid just smiled and nodded. Another fifteen minutes later Melissa had passed out on her sofa after stashing her new trunk in her bedroom and promising to visit Hagrid in the near future.


End file.
